


You Are All I Long For

by LazarusPitHotTub



Category: Figure Skating RPF
Genre: And the Kaitlyn kaetlyn sandwich, Comeback, F/M, Marriage, Olympics, Remember that this covers their whole lives, Some inspiration from rainy-sunshine, The skating parents, VM family time, adorable baby vm alert, and the Gadbois children, and the vm families, eek, i added that in just in case, please don’t let the tags and warnings scare you away, sorry that wasn’t tagged before though I should’ve thought, these tags are so so messy, theyre here, tw: abortion, vm baby, vm child
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-09-21
Updated: 2018-11-11
Packaged: 2019-07-15 04:01:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 4
Words: 24,128
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16055138
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LazarusPitHotTub/pseuds/LazarusPitHotTub
Summary: Facing facts here, the most unrealistic part of this fic is that they get their shit together.Let’s say they get together. Let’s say they go back to competition. Let’s say they live happily ever after. *not necessarily in that order.This is the rest of their lives. From wins and losses to early mornings and late nights, they have each other for every second... And I love you.OrTessa and Scott love one another very much, okay, but life is an angsty bitch that sometimes doesn’t love them in return.





	1. Prelude — Lovin’ You... Is Easy ‘Cause You’re Beautiful

**Author's Note:**

> *insert obligatory never written rpf statement here*  
> I also feel obliged to say that I planned and wrote a great deal of this months and months ago and have been slowly editing and adding to it ever since with the help of my two wonderful betas. To rainy-sunshine and her anon on tumblr; Thanks for the incredible ideas to fill one particular section. This would never happen because the ISU are little shits, so enjoy. I cried many times writing this. This follows their lives from now pretty much until death do us part so it’ll be long. I even cried planning this and I'm not an overly or outwardly emotional person. Prepare yourselves and grab some tissues. You have now been sufficiently warned. If you leave kudos and comments it makes me more likely to write other stories in the future, maybe ones that aren't quite as much of a roller coaster or to even add to this one. Lots of fluff too for you cavity lovin’ peeps. Everything good about Tessa is through Scott’s eyes and vice versa and it's actually sickening but I had to write in character because these two are basically now all literal soft rom coms there’s no human left only soft soo. Tessa, Scott, you know the drill... stop reading here. Please. Hugs and kisses. XX Liz

The major thing eight year old Scott Moir noticed about six-year-old Tessa Virtue when they met was her fire behind the quiet exterior. And then only a year later, at nine, he was more determined than he had ever been in his short life not to be beaten. Every fall he took was one step further from every goal he had, and then one step back also from every goal they had. On the flip side, Tessa would hear every time he was praised, the whispers of his talent and steel herself to be better. She would find a way to receive that praise herself. She would find a way for them both to have it. Over the years, time went on and they grew, they won, they grew apart, they lost, they grew back together again. 

Her fire became theirs, his praises became theirs, their determination became their glory.  
And through it all, he was her best friend. The only person who understood her fully. The only person who could make her glow with pure unfiltered joy and shine and laugh even through the darkest hour. The only person she could see everyday and never tire of the crinkles around his eyes as he smiled, or the way his eyebrows smooshed closer together when he was worried or sad or stressed. The only person who would see her and instantly light up.  
And through it all, she was his best friend. The only person he truly trusted with his heart. The only person he would long to be alone with, even though he was surrounded by people. The only person who he could watch for hours on end with a smile on his face.

The only person they could truly see themselves with. And, oh, it was so easy to love back then.


	2. I Think To Myself, What a Wonderful World

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Very fluffy. Starts at JSOI. This is 2018.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> More actual plot to come, I promise. Why not start out with an almost 10,000 word first chapter?

_“Someone like you to call mine,”_ and they spun, heads pressed together, clinging to one another. “Good job,” Scott whispered in her ear over the enthused Japanese crowd as Tessa pulled away. She smiled, cheeks flushed, looked at Scott and beamed even wider. He grabbed both her hands and they looked into one another’s eyes, joyful until they snapped back into reality. They spun back around to the audience, connected through one hand proudly held high above their heads and she wondered quietly if at any other point in their lives they had been happier than in 2018: triple Olympic gold medalists, their relationship better than ever before, so supported and ever so grateful. They bowed and spun around to face the other side of the arena. There was no way it could get better than this.

The crowd still roaring, they bowed a few more times and skated off together, a bounce in their step. 6 minutes. That was literally all the time they had to change for the finale. The pessimist in her would go: ‘great planning’ but then again Tessa was becoming the kind to see on the bright side — especially of late. She stripped off her Michael Jackson inspired dress as she shut the door to the dressing room, quickly pulled on her borrowed SOI dress for the finale. The music of Tango Amore quickened through the door. Having pulled herself together she neatened the skirt and walked briskly side stage.

“You ready?” she asked Scott as they prepared to enter the finale number.

“Always.”

 

The crowd was even louder this time. Maybe it was because it was the finale? Maybe it was because it was being televised? Probably both. _“You will be found,”_ sang out and the last three chords of the song rang true. Scott held Tessa once more.

“I love you,” he said just for her over the roar as they spun in the spotlight. That special smile she saved just for him made a triumphant return at this comment, they caught eyes briefly and continued the choreography. When the Olympic Rings lit the ice, he —they— couldn't’ve asked for more. He could do this every day, he thought. With her.

They hung out with the cast; Scott serenaded Tessa at Karaoke and smiled as she sung awkwardly with Meagan; he and Tessa — forever a team — smashed everyone else in bowling and he was the first to stand and cheer as she hit yet another strike. They watched and laughed together, her on his lap, as Evgenia and Meagan jokingly swore their revenge, hitting foul after foul. They chuckled together once more when Eric and Chiddy decided to pull off some stunts…

“It’s really not fair,” Chiddy said only half serious about half an hour later as Virtue & Moir came away the winners. “You two are just good at everything.” Tessa and Scott high-fived with a wink.

“Yes, yes we are,” he laughed.

“And modest too."

 

There was nothing Tessa Virtue loved more than a hot bath, and Scott Moir knew it. It was mid-April and he was back in Montréal. Home. No. Second home. Tessa had been doing another full-on media run in Toronto and she was due to arrive back at any point — she'd told Scott not to wait up.

As she turned the handle to her condo, Tessa felt something was off. She closed the door behind her and walked inside, she noticed that the lights were set to a dull orange dim around the room. She placed her bags down on the counter, absolutely perplexed.

“Scott?” she whispered tip-toeing to the bedroom.

“Scott?” And there he was in the ensuite doorway in all of his smiling glory, sprinkling roses around and making a mess, but she didn't mind. Their expressions warmed exponentially at the sight of one another. “Oh, Scott…” she laughed softly into his arms as they embraced each other.

“For you, m’lady,” he said pointing to the bubble bath.

“My hero,” she smirked, green eyes glittering in the dimness.

 

A few days later they were back in Ontario at Tessa’s house.

Tessa placed a block of chocolate on the coffee table, and soon she was curled up on her white sofa, bare toes sneaking behind one of the cushions for warmth.

“You joining me?” She asked, breaking off a square of chocolate.

“Gimme a sec, T,” Scott said bounding over.

She moved a little bit as he climbed onto the sofa next to her, sliding in between her and the back of the couch. He was so close. She could have moved a few centimetres and she would have been on top of him. They relaxed into one another. Tessa could feel Scott’s light breathes through her hair. She moved closer,snuggling into him.

They stayed like this for a while, watching TV together, only half paying attention. Indeed, they'd argue when they were older what exactly was playing when Scott sat up next to her, one arm still wrapped around her, and spoke.

“T, what are we doing?” He asked.

“Hmm?”

“What are we doing?” He continued quietly.

Tessa looked into his eyes, still seemingly baffled.

“You know what I mean.”

She really did, her expression softened to reflect this fact as everything finally sunk in.

“Please, T, can we give it a go? A _real_ go.”

Her breathing quickened just enough for him to notice. If you had told her a few years ago that their whole future would come down to a few seconds in her living room on a summer night, a piece of chocolate still warming in her mouth, she would’ve laughed — they wouldn’t have spiraled like that, they knew better. Things had changed though, she thought (or, more likely, they had only just realised all of this). She swallowed the piece of half-melted chocolate. Tessa leaned in slowly in the dim light as distant people celebrated on a game show (she swore it was a game show) on the television outside their bubble. Their lips caught one another’s almost simultaneously (but not quite, it had been a while, okay), a little messy at first, then slow and impassioned, urgent and needy for one second then realising the gravitas of it all, gentle and patient the next. Tessa’s eyes fluttered closed as her hands made their way to his arms, feeling those Olympic muscles in her palms over… and over. He was so warm and inviting and dependable and _passionate_ and if she let out a small moan, eyes still closed, as his kisses made their way down her neck, he wouldn’t bring it up the next day.

Her eyes meeting his the next morning as they woke in a tangled mess on her bed, spoke everything she needed to know. I love you, no, you don't have to cook, go back to sleep instead. He could read hers in return: Thank-you, love you too, I'm sleeping now so don't disturb me but you can if you want — I'm too happy to care.

Tessa and Scott made the decision to treat one another no differently in public than how they normally would in the time following. This being agreed upon, however, nothing much really changed about how they were in private either. With the exception of more… intimate goings on, they were the same — a kiss here or there now on the lips instead of the cheek and no-one batted an eye.

Their lives were a blur over the next few weeks. They had decided without words after the return from Pyeongchang to live in her condo — after all, it wasn't like his was very far if they needed anything, only down the hall. Besides, Tessa’s condo was nicer, cleaner, _and_ _it smelled of her_ , he thought in the back depths of his mind filled with all the secrets he would never trust himself to admit aloud. ‘ _It was always Tessa’_ and ‘ _I have never gone a day without wanting you since I was a teenager’_ kind of secrets. ‘ _I would kill for you, without a second thought’_ kind of secrets. Best kept hidden.

As they lay in bed one sleepy Sunday morning before breakfast, they lamented on their life together. “I'm so proud of you, T, love you,” he whispered into the crisp sheets, facing her. Their Montreal apartment was still caught in the overnight chill, but with him by her side she was eternally warm, and too happy to care if she wasn't. Blissfully unaware of anything bad.

“You too, more than you can ever know,” she responded as she snuggled further into his arms, and drifted back into a soft, protected slumber. Him with one hand in her dark, tangled hair; her with a small hand on his bare chest; cool beams of sunlight streaming in from a crack in the blinds — it felt so natural. It was so many years coming that even though they had not been ‘together’ for very long, they damn well felt as if they had.

 

 

They’d put his name first — on one of the Classroom Champions posters — and it irked him. Her too, though she’d never say it. This was not how things were. They were Virtue and Moir, not Moir and Virtue. Whatever. It was fine, he’d fix that after they were done touring anyway. But honestly, he thought, was not that hard to know that her name always went first. She always came first.

Classroom Champions — in spite of that poster — was a huge success and they couldn't be more proud to be associated with and able to help such a good cause. This kind of thing, after all, was what they had retired for (well, were going to retire for). The venue was sold out and most importantly this meant that they had done their job. Money was being raised for kids around the area, kids who reminded them of a younger version of themselves. It was during these events, and literally any time that they were being asked questions he supposed, that he was truly in awe of Tessa. She was so well spoken. He was so proud and so grateful to have her there. _And so in love_ that anyone who spent significant time around them was too polite to have added. But it was more than love, he thought. He respected her more and cared about her more than any other person on this planet, and she him. That was why they, fundamentally, fit.

“Aww, thank-you!” Tessa heard Scott say enthusiastically as he shook an elderly woman’s hand nearby. She was always struck by the sheer amount of tolerance and charisma and natural flair Scott had for people. If only he’d slip up a bit less... not that she really minded.

“And then I just looked at Tessa and I couldn't believe that we had actually done it!” Scott waxed on with a laugh to someone nearby. “Hey, Tess,” he sidled over to her, “Mary here wants to know; what’s your favourite lift?”

 

 

Stars On Ice, Halifax

Tessa couldn’t help but laugh when a notification for Kaitlyn’s latest Instagram story came up on her phone. She was at breakfast with Scott in the hotel and he questioned her public snort almost immediately.

“What’s so funny?”

“Oh, dear, Kaitlyn’s at practice now, she didn’t get the new schedule and she’s posting on Instagram asking where everyone is.”

“Can I see?” She showed him the video. “Send it to Buttle, he’ll get a good laugh.”

“No but seriously, we should definitely tell her right?” Tessa said.

“Give her five minutes to realise that’s she’s posted an actual email address by mistake,” Scott reassured her. After Tessa messaged Jeff, they sat eating for another minute or so before Scott broke. “Yeah nah, I’m gonna message her now,” he said, reaching for his phone.

“You’re a good person.”

 

“Guys, I’m so sorry!” Kaitlyn said in a hurry as she walked into practice that afternoon. “I didn’t realise that the schedule had changed and then I basically called you all out—”.

“If it helps, I got a good laugh out of it,” Eric said, him and Megan skating up to the two ice dance teams on centre ice. They stroked laps around the rink until Jeff spoke.

“Okay let’s block it out,” he said, realising that everyone had finally arrived. “You’ll be standing alternating in a circle around the centre. The skaters looked down at their diagrams and moved into position. “Scott, Andrew, Eric, you’ll start by skating around like a little dance break into the middle and sitting down on the Stools. Then, Tessa, Kaitlyn, Meagan you’ll then skate in and around and—”. They did so and Jeff was nodding. “Yes. That’s good”

The teams picked up the choreography pretty quickly and soon Buttle was turning on the music again for a full run through.

“A one, a two, a one, two, three four!” he yelled as the music picked up.

Tessa and Scott met one another’s steamy gaze as she pulled him out of his stool in time with the music. He had a mischievous look in his eyes. She spun around and flung herself back into his arms, Scott’s hand was pressed flat against the back of her shoulder, almost glued there. They met eyes again and Scott flashed a wicked smile. By the time they reached the chorus he was singing along.

“I’m in love with the shape of youuu,” Scott sung to Tessa earnestly. “Mhm, T, I’m in love with your body.” She met him with a laugh and a grin as they turned back to one another, him lapsing slightly with the steps as she winked.

“Careful,” she started with a smile as they fell back into it, “you might do that in a performance and then I’m not responsible for what Jeff’ll do to you for massacring his choreography.”

 

 

5:15pm Scott: your room, yeah?

5:15pm Tessa: yup

8:47pm Tessa: you coming? *Sleepy emoji*

8:49pm Scott: on my way, Chiddy wanted to talk. be right there

Tessa waited quietly in her hotel room, lounging on the bed, scrolling Instagram, waiting for Scott to join her.

I had felt like half a damn lifetime until— “Hey,” he said, wheeling his bag into the Halifax room. Tessa was astutely aware of how hard he was breathing, as if he had ran here. Confusing, but kinda of sexy if she were to be completely honest,

She looked up from her phone playfully, “hey you.”

She sat up on her elbows in the bed and shuffled forward and up off the bed to move her suitcase off of the stand. With a grateful glance, Scott put his on instead to unpack his suit.

His breathing was levelling out pretty quickly.

“So, what did you and Chiddy talk about?”

Tessa moved to sit near him at the foot of the bed, back pressed into the front of it. The carpet was rough against her feet and she stretched her feet out in front of her with a yawn.

“Nothing much. He’s retired now though, so, got a bit of flack for that,” Scott said,

“Mhm.” Another sleepy yawn.

“His plans in retirement mostly.”

“What are his plans?”

“Coach.” She nodded. “Tour.” Another nod. “Propose.” No more nods.

If Tessa had been drinking water this would’ve been when the spit-take occurred. And if Tessa and Scott of five years ago had been here, they would’ve laughed it off. If those people were there instead, maybe the air wouldn’t have felt as if it were burning.

“He said he wanted to make more time for the things that are important to him,” Scott finished.

Once his jackets were hung up in the closet, he sank down next to her on the floor, shoulder to shoulder. Tessa caught Scott’s eyes again and all of a sudden she wasn’t so tired anymore. Barely a split second passed before she was pulling him in by the collar of his t-shirt for a slow and still slightly sleepy but passionate kiss. Her face felt hot, no doubt turning bright red at the very least; he smelled like his cologne, sandalwood, sweat from practice, and home. Her teeth caught on his lips like beforehand (she really needed to stop doing that) as she pulled away for air, their foreheads still pressed wonderfully closely together.

“Woah, Tess.”

“Just making more time for the things that are important to me.”

In their moment of bliss, she rendered the courage to say what she had been meaning to every day since she’d first admitted her feelings.

“I love you, Scott.”

“Aww, I love you too, T.” A kiss near the crook of her neck that made her shiver with anticipation.

“No,” Tessa said firmly with a deep breath, pulling him away slowly. “Marry me,” she continued.

Silence.

“Marry me, Scott,” she repeated.

He sat there face blank and still, and for the first time in a long time, she couldn’t read him. His lips pressed together as he swallowed and breathed ever so slowly processing, thinking. “Scott?” Her voice was filled with concern and doubt. He blinked, hazel eyes flashing in the near darkness. She wanted so desperately to wish away the flatness of his cheeks for the lines of a smile. The clock on the wall incessantly ticked over the hour. His eyes darted around the room nervously and finally fell on her in a moment of complete clarity.

Scott took a deep breath and held her hands in his, “Marry me, Tess.”

“No, no, no, I asked first —”

And suddenly Scott was reaching into his suitcase with one hand, the other still clasping hers and her heart skipped a beat. “You’re a size four, right?”

The ring was gleaming white diamonds inlaid in sterling silver. Tessa gasped quietly.

“I asked first, for the record I asked first,” she asserted quickly, mind already wandering to the ring in her partner’s hands.

“So?”

“Yes.” She laughed, smiled, teared up a little, and thanked him with a kiss, sloppy and wet but meaningful all the same. “It’s perfect.”

“You're perfect.”

“Shut up.”

“You're excellent.”

A pause.

“Oh really, _Am_ I??”

 

 

‘You Rock My World’ was massively improved by the time Stars on Ice in Canada rolled around. It should've been, after all, they had had about two almost three weeks off of touring to work on it — and the modified Moulin Rouge program, of course. They did their jobs, snaking their way across Canada, relearning not to care when their co-star’s eyebrows lifted slightly higher than usual at more unexpected shows of public intimacy. They were not being very discreet, after all.

The last stop of Stars on Ice Canada was in Vancouver on Tessa’s birthday. “Scott, listen, you don't have to buy me something,” she had said seriously the month before. “I don't need it.”

After the last show, his hand once again took hers in their own strange handhold as they led a lap around the arena. “Happy birthday!” Someone in the crowd was screaming. Scott turned to Tessa beside him; “Happy birthday!” he yelled over the audience. “Thank-you,” she laughed back, intertwining their hands even further and waving to the people all around. They circled the stage to finish their lap and then led the cast back through the tunnel. They were all going to dinner to celebrate another great year of CSOI — and Tessa’s birthday.

 

Tessa and Scott waited to see if their cast mates would notice. After CSOI in London weeks beforehand they had announced it to their hometown friends and family.

“We have something to tell you,” Tessa said from near the head of the table, slowly standing up as she got their families’ attention. Scott, still holding her hand, slowly ran his thumb across her knuckles in comfort. She could feel the whole table’s anticipation grow by the second. Her sister, Jordan, waggled her eyebrows at Tessa in jest. Tessa looked back beside her, “Scott.” He stood to join her, momentarily letting go of her hand and then shuffling away from his seat to stand closer. Joe and Alma’s home was silent except for the quickening beats of Tessa’s heart. She looked back at Scott once more with something akin to begging him to just take charge.

He moved away from her and interlocked their hands again. Tessa had slipped the ring on a few minutes beforehand, and as they raised their hands in unison the party spotted it.

“Hallelujah!” Someone shouted as Tessa and Scott grinned like kids in a candy store. They locked eyes again as if they weren’t surrounded by everyone important to them.

“Get a room!” his brother, Charlie, hollered.

His mother cried, her mother smiled, and Charlie gave Tessa the biggest hug and said: “not that you need it because you have always been, but welcome to the family, officially.” Then, of course, the obligatory threatening of Scott by Tessa’s siblings; first her two older brothers (and their wives), then Jordan who was visiting from Toronto.

 

Later that evening as they left, Alma brought Tessa into a warm, comforting hug.

“You are my daughter now, I am your Mom, don’t ever forget it,” she said. Tessa blushed. “Anything you need,” Alma continued, tucking some of Tessa’s hair behind her ear as she pulled away. “You call, okay?”

“Okay,” she responded, nodding, as Alma gave her a huge smile. Dammit, why did everyone in his family manage to remind her of Scott?

“Thank-you,” was all Kate said quietly and sincerely to Scott as they prepared to leave.

“Don’t ruin this for yourself, Scotty boy,” Charlie grinned, walking up next to them and ruffling up his brother’s hair, wife and kids following shortly behind half-heartedly rolling their eyes at his joke.

Scott and Tessa turned to his aunt next. “Carol—” they started in unison before they burst out laughing once more.

They properly thanked Carol Moir for putting them in each other's lives for what felt like the billionth time in twenty years and Tessa and Scott were so happy. That was the purest way to describe it.

Patrick Chan, dear old Chiddy, was the first to notice back in Vancouver with the CSOI cast, his trademark deer in headlights look flashed across his face as he looked from Tessa’s hand to Scott and then back again.

“You —“ he stopped short. “You two —“ he started again. “Why didn't you tell me?”

Tessa couldn't keep it in any longer; one look from Scott — eyebrows raised so innocently as if to say: ‘tell you what?’ — and she burst out laughing, doubled over now clutching her chest and no sign of stopping anytime soon.

“Wait, what’s happening?” Kaitlyn Weaver said from the other side of the table, head spinning over to Tessa and stopping in her tracks as she spotted the ring on the hand that Tessa was now using to wipe laughing tears from the corners of her eyes. She almost screamed, leaping out of her chair and rushing over to the other side of the table to where Tessa and Scott were then literally glowing with joy at sharing their news with the team. “YOUR’E a sneaky one,” Kaitlin laughed with her as she pulled Tessa into a bear hug, grinning. “You too, Moir,” her eyes crinkling in laughter as she threw Scott some pretend shade.

They continued on tours through the summer, their co-stars from CSOI, their Canadian team, promising they could keep the secret until July. “You know I can keep a secret when I need to, guys,” Chiddy said. Him and Scott shared a look.

In the meantime, however, Tessa’s birthday gift consisted of a delicate silver chain to keep the ring close to her heart.

They toured, they saw and skated with the Queen of figure skating herself, Yuna Kim — Scott’s words; went to Japan; went to on a Gold Medal Plates trip to Belgium and France; back to Japan; to a different part of Japan. Seemingly endless but extremely fun touring? Check.

“Tess?” Scott turned to his fiancé seated next to him on the plane back to Toronto. “Tessa,” he whispered again as quietly as possible. She twitched quietly in her sleep, face slightly scrunching up in thought, and he didn't have the heart to wake her; after the months they’d had it was good that one of them was getting some sleep. He settled in for the rest of the flight with a book and two hours of sleep under his belt.

They flew to Toronto and then onto London. It would be great, Tessa and Scott thought, to spend time with their families and nieces and nephews on their school holidays and then get some well deserved time to themselves.

Alma approached Tessa with smile and took her into a big hug in the arrivals hall. “The daughter I never had, welcome home sweetheart,” she said. Tessa smiled too. Scott was so much like his mother, so there was always this feeling of belonging with the Moirs for Tessa; being surrounded by so many reminders of him. That warmth, his same charisma but sensitivity.

“Cara!” She exclaimed, spotting Scott’s cousin. “You didn't have to come!”

“Who am I to miss welcoming the happy couple back?” Cara said. “Besides, we have wedding planning to do,” she added quietly. Tessa’d forgotten about that through their touring.

“Uhhh,” she started.

“Relax not today, it’s already 8pm I'm joking,” Cara said squishing Tessa and Scott in a quick hug.

“Ahhhh, my favourite people!” Scott said bringing his mom and Cara into a hug of his own. With a slight wave, Tessa joined them, arms struggling to reach around the group and face smooshed into the side of Scott’s back. They certainly were a sight.

“You got all your bags?” Alma asked. Tessa and Scott looked around, counting.

“One, two, three, four…” Tessa quietly counted aloud. “Yes, yes we do.”

Halfway back to Tessa’s home, Alma looked over her shoulder at the back seat. Tessa and Scott were fast asleep there, hands joined, heads propped up against one another and shoulders rising and falling in unison. Scott’s hair had fallen over half his face, and Tessa’s was bundled messily on top of her head.

“Cara, don’t look, you're driving so I’ll take a picture, but that’s adorable,” Alma sighed. “Hang on.” She lifted her phone over her shoulder and snapped a pic. Cara glanced over to where Alma was holding up her phone to view the resulting image.

“Awww…”

“It’s real cute, ‘eh? I'm sending this to Kate.”

Tessa sniffled in the back seat, head dropping onto Scott’s shoulder. Alma laughed.

At their next lunch together Kate made sure to tell Alma to keep filing away those images for the wedding and thanked her future in-law for such a lovely picture. Kate sent through a picture of Tessa and Scott — asleep in the back seat on the way to Waterloo — the very next day.

09:32 Kate: [waterloo-car.jpg]

09:41 Alma: oh, they were so small… do you think Jordan and Cara will mind if we add this to the album?

09:59 *Kate added two people to the chat*

10:00 Jordan: okay that is adorable and Tess is never hearing the end of this

10:01 Cara: I have seen love with my very eyes now

10:02 *Cara added Sheri to the chat*

10:06 Sheri: they’re never hearing the end of this one

10:07 Cara: hello my new profile picture for them. Or is it yours S?

10:07 Sheri: haha no it’s not I have a better profile pic for them now

10:08 Cara: please say it’s from the wedding shoot

10:08 Sheri: it is not.

10:08 Cara: :(

10:08 Cara: Carmen? ;D

10:10 Cara: Sheri?

10:11 Cara: rip Sheri

 

 

“I'm gonna post it on Instagram now. You ready?” Tessa asked.

Nerves and doubt crept over Scott’s skin like spiders. “You sure?”

“Am I sure?” Her voice was full of concern.

“No, no, no, I'm second guessing myself,” he said. “Do it.”

Tessa clicked post.

6 August 01:24pm.

@tessavirtue17:@scottmoir14

[image: a well-lit couch arm with two hands intertwined, one clearly has a simple diamond-encrusted ring on the ring finger —Tessa’s. Scott is also tagged in the image.]

liked by **scottmoir14, skate_canada** and **204,605 others**

****(for when AO3 supports emojis)****

****A couple of days later she posted again.

@tessavirtue17: I would say I'm excited about starting our life together but… who are we kidding? 

[image: cute pic of cuddling and being soft]

 

September 2018

“CNE was fun this year, really got the crowds going,” Tessa said absentmindedly as they walked into her home.

“It’s nice to be back home, ‘eh?” Scott said, dumping their bags inside the front door and sliding his hand into her’s. The door keys landed with a jangle on a nearby table.

“Yeah,” she said with a deep sigh, relief pouring over her as she leaned into his side.

“Some of the guys wanted to meet up this afternoon and—” she cut him off mid-sentence, stepping away ever so slightly to face him.

“Go, go!” Tessa waved at the door with her free hand. “I need some sleep anyway.”

“You sure?” Scott was already reaching for their luggage to take it to the bedroom.

“Yep.” Tessa walked in after him, throwing herself onto their bed.

“You comfy there, T?”

“Very.” She curled up like a cat on the duvet.

“I’ll just unpack first.” Tessa was now stretched out across the whole bed.

“Okay.” She whispered.

He wrapped his hand around her right foot and lifted it gently out of the way so he could put his suitcase on the bed. “Noo.” A small whine made its way to Scott courtesy of Tessa from the bed.

“Careful,” Scott joked, fingers gearing up to tickle the end of her toes as he let go.

Before Tessa knew it, Scott had finished unpacking and was kneeling beside her to check if she was actually asleep. He placed an unexpectedly warm hand on her shoulder and gave it a slight squeeze.

“Love you.” He tucked a raven curl behind her ear, placed a kiss on her forehead and slowly closed their bedroom door with a tiny click.

 

The front door made a loud crashing sound as it slammed shut behind Scott when he returned later that evening. He had expected to see Tessa in the living room reading, or the study answering emails, but to his surprise he found her exactly where he had left her. She was in bed on her side, hand tucked slightly under her chin, a small amount of drool evident, sheets clutched tightly in front in the other hand. His heart melted instantly.

“T,” he whispered. “Tess,” he said a little louder, walking towards her. “Wake up. It's time for dinner.” She continued to — uncharacteristically — sleep soundly, chest rising and falling with the tick-tick of the clock. “I’ll cook,” he continued. “Tessa.” Scott tapped her shoulder lightly. “Time to get up.”

Tessa groaned.

“Arghurmfph.”

“Mhm.” They stayed there, silent for a split second until Scott started laughing heartily. Tessa, now clearly awake, starting to sit up in bed, joined in too.

“How long was I asleep?”

He glanced at the clock. “Five hours, give or take.”

“Oh, wow.”

“You must’ve needed it.”

“But still…”

“No buts T, except you getting your butt up for dinner.”

Tessa grinned slyly. “I seem to remember someone promising to cook?”

Scott feigned shock. “Vwhat,” he said, putting on an accent. “Cook? Me? Never!” He held out his hand and she took it, padding to the kitchen behind him.

“What’s for dinner?” Tessa easily pulled herself up to sit on the kitchen countertop.

Scott shrugged. “Do you have one of those instructional things lying around?” 

 

 

It wasn't until mid-September that Tessa truly realised that something was off about it all. She had at first attributed the tiredness to their schedule, but then their schedule had died down and she was _still_ tired. She had thought that her food cravings were from a lack of being able to really chose and diversify her menu whilst preparing for the Olympics, but then time passed and she was _still_ craving, even more so than before. Her lack of a period? Well, she'd stopped intensely training for close to ten hours a day and that was bound to mess up your cycle. God, she couldn't remember what they had told her. Being exhausted effects memory recall? You're damn well right it did.

“Scott,” she said one day when it all started to click. It was late evening and they were sitting in the living room in the lamplight, going over the details for houses in Montreal. He looked up from his computer, glasses perched on his nose, one eyebrow raised, a goofy smile plastered on his face. “I last had my period when?”

Scott bit his lip in thought, goofy grin dropping. “June.” So she had been right.

The meaning behind her words fully registered with him. It hit him with full force and his heart swelled twice the size. “We’ll do this together,” he assured her. “Have you taken a test?”

“No,” she said with a small cry. Her worry was in stark juxtaposition to his sudden joy. Green orbs met hazel. Her voice was so small, fragile and full of worry, not the outgoing woman of her ways that he had fallen so in love with all over again in the past couple of years. She looked so run down. Without a second thought, he took her into his arms, her head resting against his shoulder.

“I guess this cuts down the house search,” he smiled, quietly putting the printed pile of three bedroom houses in the ‘no’ pile.

“I love you very much. No matter what happens… Possibly both of you.” Was the last thing she heard as he carried her off to bed. She felt like she wasn't supposed to hear that last bit; as if she had intruded on a private moment between a father and his child. And so many parts of her desperately wanted to be right for that very reason.

 

When Tessa awoke the next day she was very alarmed to not find her ‘almost husband’ — ‘it's a better phrase than fiancé, Scott,’ — next to her. She looked down, she was in her stripy pajamas, that was sweet of him. Still confused, Tessa walked through the house, inquisitively, finally finding him passed out on their couch, computer perched on the edge, dangerously close to falling and breaking.

“You're wearing yesterday's clothes, of course, you are,” she said, rolling her eyes and rescuing the laptop from its precarious position. As she put it safely on the coffee table, Tessa’s eyes caught sight of a shopping bag. She pulled the bag closer and peered inside. Tears sprung to her eyes as she saw the books he had bought in the dead of the previous night. _What to Expect When You’re Expecting, The Complete Secrets of Happy Children_ and _Having a Baby_ , were among them. Two pregnancy tests were at the bottom of the bag.

After that moment, when people would ask why she loved him, this was the moment she would always recall. Never the kisses or the way he lit up a room or even the sex. It was that he did this kind of stuff. Which begged the question: who the fuck did this kind of stuff?

Scott Moir, that’s who. He was the man whom she never had to question would be an amazing father, which was good because she was fucking terrified at the thought of becoming a mother. But doing it all with him was what made it all worth it. Him? The only person she wanted to grow old with. Him? The only person she wanted to hold her children and proudly say that they were his too. Him? The only person she trusted to always be there. He had become her rock, and what she didn't know was that she was his in return. She pulled the throw over him and let him sleep it all off. He looked so _young_ when he slept, as if the years just slipped right off of him, none of the fire that he was in acceptable daylight hours. Yep, any kid with him as a dad would be very lucky, she thought.

This trust in him as a father and person didn’t mean that she wasn’t scared about their own relationship, though. They’d had done some truly messed up stuff in the past. Not screaming or yelling or throwing or chasing; just silence. Feelings simmering quietly under the surface just waiting for the right moment to rear their ugly heads. Their relationship in those moments (months) had been as chilled as the ice they skated on. Not their on-ice relationship, that could bear almost anything, they’d make that work. But their off-ice relationship... they’d messed that one up more times than she could count. He had broken her heart and her his more times than they cared to admit; see-sawing back and forth as they traded titles with the Americans.

As sure as she was when her blade touched the ice, she knew that just because she had found her soulmate, it did not guarantee that it would all work out, that it was for the best, she was absolutely sure of that more than anything else in this world. They both had scars from wounds carved deep a jagged into their hearts from one another; those, she knew, would take half a lifetime to heal. Now they just had to do it together. Being in love was supposed to be the easy part right?

The reality was that in the past their love was often too easily turned to a raging passion. And that made it too easy to be completely surrounded by him and them. Too easy to fall so hopelessly that everything else would blur. Too easy to let it build and burn and consume every other part of her until there was no Tessa behind. Only the Virtue that once skated with Moir.

As a figure skater, she had taken many a fall in her life and bounced back. That was the one fall she knew she did not have the strength to bounce back from once more. She would rather never see one another than fall like that again. They needed balance and she would sacrifice anything for that.

 

Scott woke, body stiff and aching from the couch, to the smell of burning eggs.

“What the fuck, T?” Okay, so maybe if he were to be a dad the language would have to be toned down a bit.

“Sorry! I know, I've burned the eggs!” She waved a tea towel around to dissipate the smoke.

“That’s okay.” The shock of waking to the smell of burning was lessening. Scott saw Tessa hit the pan with the spatula with a flick of the wrist.

“I swear. The food is rebelling against me,” she said, disgruntled. The substance in the pan could’ve been better described as charcoal at that point. Neither of them were eating that.

“Do you need any help?”

Tessa peered over with a grin, looking desperate.

“Yes please.”

“Do you want me to cook while you finish sorting the houses by price?”

Tessa beamed, “yes please.”

 

Over breakfast Scott spoke first: “Have you taken the test?”

“Not yet.”

“Have you booked an appointment with your gynaecologist?”

“I should do that.”

“Sorry if I'm asking too much T, I just —”

“No, _I'm_ sorry, don't ever apologise for being concerned.”

“Why should you be sorry?”

She stopped eating, knife clinking loudly as she put it down. “I'm the one who went and messed all of this up.” It hurt him almost physically to see her so hard on herself, especially considering everything she’d been through.

He looked at her very seriously, “never apologise for being female, T.” Scott reached across the table and gently pushed her chin upwards so that she was looking straight at him. “Please, never apologise for being the female in this relationship.” Tessa nodded, smiled and leaned into his hand, breathing in his scent and laughing quietly as he took it away.

She left her half-finished breakfast at the dining table shortly after and took to the bathroom.

“I'm gonna take the test now.”

Scott looked up at her from where he was finishing his eggs. “Do you need—”

She looked back at him from the hallway, head tilted and eyebrows raised. “I can pee on my own.”

 

Tessa steeled herself up in the mirror. She thought she looked remarkably normal for the highway of thoughts speeding through her mind.

Walking back from the bathroom she had two uncertain tests in hand.

If they are positive, she thought, we don’t even know if that means what I think it means. I have a family history, I could… it could be cancer.

“Don’t even say stuff like that, T. Please don’t say stuff like that.”

She had spoken aloud. Oops.

“Um, excuse me, you brought your pee sticks with you.”

Tessa laughed. Full bodied and heartily. Such an inappropriate time to laugh, really. But she couldn’t help herself.

“You mean, _your_ pee sticks? You bought them.”

“You make a fair point, Virtch.”

 

When they returned from the doctor’s office a few days later, he was the first to speak. “Do what you need to do, T, if you want my input you have it, if you don't I love you and I'll support you,” Scott said. She’d seen his eyes shine when it had been confirmed, though, for all his outstanding support of any choice she would make Tessa could still read him like a book. Oh, god. If they did this she’d have to start reading about… If they really did this she'd have no time for reading. The two halves of her were raging war in her mind and she wasn't sure what to say. “T?” He sounded concerned again. “Are you okay?”

“Hmm?” she said, sitting down on their sofa. “Just thinking.” She put on a small smile, at first for him, then for herself as he joined her. Her teeth started to show in the smile as she imagined, and then quickly dropped away as new realities all dawned on her. It wasn't like she had never planned for kids — she had three siblings after all — and it wasn't like she’d never even planned for kids with Scott; it was just all… very, _very_ sudden. Like being in the shower and having the water change from hot to cold in a flash. It wasn't like she didn't like the cold, it was just a surprise. And to experience cold water in the shower of all places was… unexpected.

“I think we should talk it through at therapy, make sure we’re on the same page in a safe environment,” she said, finally. He shot her a small smile of support.

“Do you want to make a pros and cons list?” He asked as if they were debating where to go out for lunch. Scott knew her too well.

“No,” Tessa responded. “Dinner, though, perhaps?” Her cheeky smile was back at it again. “Pleeease.” She pouted, a small laugh escaping her lips.

“Well, if you put it that way,” Scott said. “Take a seat.”

 

As he was sautéing vegetables in the sauce from the jar on the counter, he spoke up. “Tess, I need to say something.”

Her steady breaths halted abruptly and she stiffened slightly on the couch with nerves. He turned from the pan that was occupying his attention.

“I need you to know that I only want to be with you, no matter what happens.”

She breathed a sigh of relief.

“And that I really do want a family with you.”

There it was. The quiet addition that further conflicted her soul, that stoked the fire of war inside her between those two parts.

“One day.” He finished with a smile of support and encouragement.

“I'm happy about this, Scott,” she said, “I really am.”. And she meant every single damned word because god forbid she work this hard to not have deserved every moment of peace and to live her life. Just as she made this realisation, she felt an uneasiness in her stomach that was becoming all too familiar. Tessa rushed out of her seat, holding the bench for support as she entered the kitchen, hard breathes steading out her queasiness.

“You okay?” Scott threw a look of concern over at her, haphazardly poking at some carrots. The carrots sizzled on the stove and their smell wafted through the room.

She threw up in the trash.

He came rushing to her side, arms already extended to hold her.

“Living the glamorous life of a skater ‘eh, T?” Scott cajoled, one hand holding her ponytail back and the other holding her hand as she heaved.

“That was really gross,” Tessa muttered distantly as she recovered a few minutes later, back against the kitchen wall. “Thank-you.” Scott re-appeared by her side with a small glass of water and some crackers. She took one slow, small sip and the glass sloshed slightly as she put it down on the wood floorboards. She used the hand that had been holding the glass to unnecessarily tuck ‘stray hairs’ behind his ear, her thumb light on his ever so slight stubble. “What would I do without you?”

“You'd starve, apparently,” Scott said matter of factly.

“Excuse me! I’ll have you know I cook excellent poached eggs, who do you think you are?!” Tessa’s spirits rose exponentially with their banter. She took another sip.

“I'm gonna carry you.”

He held out his arms and she shrugged, sinking into them. Scott sat his fiancé ever so carefully down on the couch and then sauntered away again.

“Where are you going?”

“Making sure you don't starve!”

 

The Skype call the next day with Jean-Francois was rushed in its planning. Tessa had texted him trying not to show her panic too much the afternoon before, asking if he had any time to fit them in. Scott then followed up her politely phrased ‘hello we were wondering if you...’ with his own message: ‘SOS JF T’s gonna sound all nice and agreeable about it but we really need you to fit us in tomorrow, please!’.

“So, that’s what’s up with us,” Tessa and Scott finished to the perplexed look of their therapist over the computer screen — propped up on some books in the living room. Tessa’s hand slunk over Scott’s lap, resting on top of his own and she rubbed his rough fingers gently with her own in encouragement. JF still looked a little dumbfounded.

“Tessa, how do you feel about this?” he asked. She reached down past the screen and picked up a notepad with neat cursive writing.

“I made some notes.” She held it up into view as the fuzzy camera refocused.

“I thought you said you weren’t making notes?” Scott questioned quietly.

“I changed my mind,” Tessa said with a shrug.

“Thank goodness!” Scott replied, bounding off of the couch and returning with his own. “I just needed to get my feelings onto paper, you know?”

“We’ll start with Tessa,” JF interrupted, “what was the first thing you wrote?”

She didn’t even have to glance down. “Commitment. I want to know that we’re ready to commit to this next step.”

“And Scott?” A pause.

“Commitment. I... I worry about how much of myself that I can give. Of living up to T.”

“Never,” she interrupted. “You don’t have anything to live up to I trust you, I love you.”

Things weren’t perfect, but it looked like they were having a baby after all.

 

@tessavirtue17: @scottmoir14

[image: ultrasound picture on a fridge, just cryptic enough]

**scottmoir14 <3**

@scottmoir14: @tessavirtue17

[image: same pic as Tessa]

 **tessavirtue17**  <3

 

With her calm mumble to a book one evening as background noise, Scott thought for a second what he would do without her in his life and he all of a sudden couldn't breathe beside her. His face distorted as he moved closer as if protecting her from the world. From the judges and the figure skating community who constantly underestimated her and made her doubt every part of her wonderful self, to simply every bad soul who had ever laid eyes on her. Her eyebrows furrowed as he stilled. Tessa started to move to face him in response and he immediately scrambled to accommodate her, quiet whispers of, “oh no, Tess, please keep reading,” and “you don't have to move for me.”

“Scott, what’s wrong?” He grimaced, curls flattened between her, the pillow, and his face. She noticed small tears welling up in his eyes and felt a pang of confusion and then it was like she was falling and there were no handholds left, no safe place to land as she saw the fear in his eyes.

“I'm so scared, Tess,” Scott started. “I don't want anything bad—” his voice broke like a twig underfoot in a desert. Her book fell to the bedside table with a soft thump, she turned off the lamp with a click, and they were blanketed in darkness. Snuggling into him she took a shaky breath. A few seconds passed in the blue-tinged dark.

“I'm scared too.” It was almost imperceptible, and indeed it would be if they weren't laying but a breath away from each other. He reached out his hand to Tessa, fingers intertwining in their own intimate way, and they lay there, so close — so still — as if both afraid that they would be crushed or broken, becoming dust under anything more than the weight of their bedding and their bodies, so close but so right. Their joined hands over her belly, they felt their child, together, alive under their fingertips.

 

tessavirtue17: I hope you know how much we love you already

[image: baby’s room]

 

Christmas was a noisy affair. They spent the morning with the Moirs and the evening at the Virtue’s.

The Moir house was children galore.

“Mommy!” a little girl padded up to Scott’s cousin, “can you make chocolate-chip pancakes?”

“Uncle, Scott?” another asked. “Can you and Auntie Tessa come play with us?” Tessa had been Auntie Tessa basically these kids whole lives, they didn’t know anything else.

“Sure!” Tessa said, walking up beside them. The little girl led them over to the living room where their new presents were scattered all across the floor.

“What are we playing?” Scott asked, kneeling on the ground and removing the pillows from the coach so that his fiancé had somewhere to sit.

“I’ve just gotta find it,” his niece implored, stuffing the leftover wrapping paper in the wastepaper basket. “I need time,” she continued, looking over at them, then continuing to rummage through things.

Tessa laughed, a little bemused, and looked over at Scott’s other niece who was drawing in the corner.

“Hello, Charlotte.”

The 6-year-old spun around, smiling.

“Auntie Tessa!” She stood up and brought her drawing over. “I’m drawing everyone,” she announced, holding up the picture proudly. “See, here’s mom,” she pointed to a stick figure with a beaming smile labeled ‘mOm’. “And dad,” Charlotte jabbed the page one stick figure over at a man with spiky hair and a head floating strangely far above his body. “Oh, and Mason,” she pointed at her brother by her parent’s feet, smaller than the rest, face scribbled with an angry expression. “And then grandma and grandpa and everyone else.” Tessa nodded. Charlotte’s small fingers traced the page for a couple more seconds. “And here are you and Uncle Scott.” Charlotte had scrawled ‘Auntie TesSa and UncLe ScoTT’ in her child’s hand with arrows pointing towards them below their likenesses, including Tessa’s pregnant self.

“I love it,” Tessa said, touched at how the girl considered her family.

“What are you naming the baby?” Charlotte asked, crayon in hand, reading to draw it in.

“We don’t know,” Tessa said honestly.

“We don’t even know if it’s a boy or a girl yet,” Scott said, crawling over on his hands and knees.

“Uncle Scott...” Charlotte giggled, spotting the tiara and cape that he was wearing.

“You got a little something!” Tessa followed up, pointing at her own head. Scott just winked.

The laughter and games continued until Tessa and Scott were bundled up and out the door, gifts and leftovers spilling out of their arms, Charlotte following them obediently to their car with the rest. Scott picked his niece up and swung her around before giving her a kiss on the cheek and placing her down back at the edge of the driveway.

“Stay safe, bye!”

 

Scott was walking cheerfully back from Kate’s kitchen that evening to put his plate in the dishwasher when Casey, Tessa’s brother, carefully pulled him aside. He could hear Tessa laughing at a joke her sister had just made. She shone as Casey’s daughter — her niece — toddled up to her on pudgy four-year-old feet, hands sticky and too big Christmas sweater billowing around her. Scott and Casey watched for a moment as Tessa and Jordan shuffled on the coach so that Poppy could fit in between, nestling her head into Tessa’s lap.

Casey turned back to Scott in the doorway. Scott was still staring at Tessa with a look of serenity and love in his eyes.

“The most important job you will ever have is to love her,” Casey said firmly, still scared for his little sister.

Scott swallowed slowly and nodded. Once then twice then three times.

“I know.”

“Nothing else—“

“I know.”

When it was nearing ten pm, Tessa and her niece were fast asleep on the sofa and Scott wasn’t far from it. They waved some sleepy goodbyes, hugged her family, and Tessa breathed a sigh of relief when they finally stepped through their own doorway a car drive and ten minutes later. Jackets quickly went by the wayside and Tessa closed her eyes in the silence, one hand over her belly, skin a little swollen, soft and sensitive but warm under her touch. Scott came up behind her and wrapped his hands over hers. His voice was like ASMR in her ear... It was low, velvety and crystal clear, cutting the silence like a hot knife.

“You have no idea,” he said, taking a slow breath of her hair. “how amazing you were today.” She could hear his breaths in her ear, feel the warmth radiating from him, feel his hands silently ask for permission as they slid under her shirt. His thumb rubbed endless circles and figure eights over her abdomen and he slowly added more fingers until he stilled, his whole hand curved around her bump. Her belly rose and fell with each breath, him moving with her, perfectly in synch and perfectly nestled around her.

Returning from her sleepy state, Tessa was all of a sudden very conscious of his presence. She picked his hand up off of her bump and placed it in hers. They rocked back and forth in the still air to the invisible beat of their baby’s heart; through the hallway, careful to avoid the vase as her foot caught a doorway, past the sitting room and into the kitchen. Tessa was leading and her mouth was watering like mad. She was starving.

Tessa led them until Scott was backed up against her white walls next to the doorway. She wrapped her fingers around his neck, just brushing the tips of his hair. The kisses that came were hard and fast almost salacious, bathed in the moonlight streaming through the window, Scott still pressed up against the wall.

“Merry Christmas, Tess.”

A kiss. “Can you—” Tessa started, another slow one, “make me—” a final heavier kiss, “brownies, please,” Tessa whispered out breathily. “Chocolate ones...”

Scott laughed heartily until he met her eyes.

“Oh, T, you’re not joking...”

“No, no I’m not.”

“Chocolate brownies ‘eh?”

“Yess pleaseeee.”

Scott leaned in warm hands either side of his fiancé’s face and left a peck on her lips. “Here we go then.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> More to come in about 2-3 days once I talk with my betas and edit. Lesson 4 the day: Remember not to @ or # ts on twitter unless u want them to actually see it.
> 
> Same name on Tumblr. Come and yell @ me. Write your theories and likes etc. in the comments and feed my creativity.


	3. I Watch Them Grow

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> T, S and the next few years. A baby, a comeback to competition and more.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey! Sorry I've been MIA. have 11, 000 words.

**2019**

By the end of January 2019, they finally had a house. It was a little more than a stone’s throw from the rink and b2ten gym in Montreal, but the price was not something either of them would be comfortable discussing anytime soon. The baby would have their own room and Tessa and Scott would be just down the hall. They could sit on the porch in the summer where they would watch the children playing down the footpaths. In the autumn the great big maple tree would shed its golden leaves everywhere and they would catch flight and adventure through the neighbourhood past the big houses and nice yards and the mother’s with their smiling mischievous children and mildly attentive husbands. And in the winter, the snow made everything into a glittery wonderland, icicles forming then melting off of the terrace, footpaths shiny with new ice and snow and Scott waving to the other fathers each morning as he shovelled a path from the stairs down to the road through the new stark white blanket that would form each night.

 

Worlds in 2019 was a vague, but still constant presence in the lives of Tessa and Scott. As Tessa sat down for a late dinner one night in their new home, CBC showed replays of Papadakis & Cizeron’s horrific fall early in the short dance during the synchronised twizzles. Tessa looked down at herself. Definitely still pregnant. She couldn’t even imagine doing twizzles right now, let alone having to synchronise them with a partner. She winced as CBC slowed down the footage and she saw Gabriella wobble then fall off of her blade and onto the ice, sliding straight into Guillaume as he contorted himself every which way to try to escape her blades.

“In the ice dance, with the fall and subsequent deduction for the French lying in third, Americans Hubbell & Donohue are currently in first place heading into the free dance tomorrow,” the woman announced.

Tessa squealed in excitement for their former training mates.

“Scott!” she yelled into the other room.

“T?”

Scott came rushing into the dining room from where he was painting in the baby’s room.

“Are you in labour!? Are you okay? It’s too early!” his words spilled into one another as he skidded to a stop in front of her. Her face softened quickly as she reassured him.

“No, no, look,” she said pointing at the tv in the adjacent living room, where there was now footage playing of Madi and Zach in the kiss and cry receiving their scores.

“They’re in first?” Scott asked.

“Yep.”

Scott’s face broke into a smile with her’s. He placed a sustained kiss on the top of her head, hand cradling Tessa’s cheek.

“You want moose or geese?” Scott questioned.

“Geese??” Tessa looked confused.

“For the baby’s room, little ones to run along the bottom of the wall. I’ve got stencils.”

“I don’t mind,” she said, shoving lasagna into her mouth. He leaned forward to kiss her. She pushed him away. “No, no, no, no, no more human contact, I can’t not right now. Non-touch step sequence mode.”

Scott sighed and returned to the room, blowing her a small kiss anyways as he left. She turned her attention back to the tv.

“Finally, in the ladies short program, Russian Alina Zagitova is currently in first place, 2015 world champion Elizaveta Tuktamysheva in second — a fellow Russian, Rika Kihira is in third and Kaori Sakamoto also from Japan is trailing just behind in fourth. Canadian Gabrielle Daleman is in sixth” She’d heard the news about the ladies after some excited texts earlier in the day but it still warmed her heart. Tessa might not have felt up to human contact at that point but she still cared, especially for people thousands of kilometres away who wouldn’t try to touch her, especially with all the hormones raging through her. She tried not to think about what the hormones meant was coming and quickly.

 

Just a week before their child was born, they decided that they would be going back to competition.

“Worlds in Montreal then, ‘eh?” Scott said, sounding excited. Tessa giggled.

“Yes.” She met his eyes. “It’s not everyone who gets the chance to do what amounts to two home worlds.” Scott nodded.

“Mmm, yeah.” Tessa laughed. “Wooooo!” Scott shouted. “We’re gonna be back baby!” She laughed even harder as he leaned into her belly, “we’re gonna be back, baby,” he whispered. Tessa’s face softened as he leaned in, her fiancé’s hair flopping into his eyes.

“You’re going to be such a great dad,” she said quietly, swallowing tears of pride.

Scott stood up to face her, cupping her face in his hands. “You are going to make an amazing mom, T.” She blushed and laughed a little, a few tears escaping. “Hey, hey,” he said as she tried to look away. Scott guided her chin back to face him and met her eyes. “Amazing.”

 

It was May. Early May. And Tessa and Scott had a beautiful, darling, _crying_ , daughter. In other words, they were fucking liars. The whole time that they had openly loved one another they had taken every chance to whisper how they would love one another “‘till their dying day,” and “never love another more” were a complete and utter lie. They spend every available second holding their daughter like the first time every time, like she was the most darling precious thing on the planet —he knew it was a cliche but didn't care because “it’s true, Danny, Charlie, don't argue with me!” — and Scott realised it. The impossible had happened. He finally loved another more.

It took Tessa a little longer. She loved her baby, truly, but although she was young and fit and healthy, she was also small framed with an unfortunate family history, and it had all taken a toll on her physically, not to mention mentally and emotionally.

Tessa only knew she was done for — completely in love — in the quiet moments weeks later. When Scott was asleep in their bed, face up, exhausted, clothes crumpled, hair greasy, baby girl drooling on his chest and her tiny limbs splayed out; or when she finally slept through the night and Tessa and Scott both cried tears of relief the next morning not to be waken by their baby’s screams.

“Oh thank god,” Scott looked at the time again. “Finally!” But Tessa was already creeping into the baby’s room next door.

“Shh, you rest, I'm just gonna watch her for a little bit.” So Tessa sat there until breakfast (poached eggs, a “real meal”), head against the bars of the crib, breathing as quietly as possible and admiring Scott’s features on her girl’s face; tears rolling down her cheeks. “It was definitely all the hormones,” she would later claim.

tessavirtue17: @scottmoir14 and I are thrilled to announce the birth of our daughter. Clara Marie Virtue-Moir

[image: baby daughter wrapped in soft white blanket]

scottmoir14: @tessavirtue17 and I are thrilled to announce the birth of our daughter. Clara Marie Virtue-Moir

[image: baby daughter in a Canada onesie in Tessa’s arms]

 

At their first doctor’s appointment at the six week mark they expressed their doubts.

“But she’s still so small,” Tessa said with worry, looking down at her daughter in her arms still rocking her up and down as their baby’s finger grasped up at her hair and attempted a half hearted tug. “Don't do that sweetheart.”

“Babies grow, she’s within weight for her age,” the doctor reassured the young parents stoically. “Just keep breastfeeding her and then we’ll move her onto mixture once you move back to full training days. She’s in great health.”

“Okay,” Tessa and Scott each said hesitantly.

“If you’ll just sign here,” the doctor continued, pointing at various disclaimers and insurance documents on the table. Scott signed first and then heard a sharp cry from beside him.

“Hey,” he whispered gently reaching out for his little girl. “I’ll take her.” He locked eyes with a very grateful and tired Tessa. ‘I hate that you're allowed coffee and I'm not’ she would later say (repeatedly), too tired to try to sound like she was joking (she wasn't). They marvelled at how the whole of their daughter could fit in his calloused, strong hands, like putty or a toy. Scott cradled Clara, putting one hand behind her little head for support as he brought her up to head level so she was looking over his shoulder in his arms, little beady eyes wide as she drooled and peered around the room.

Tessa let out a small tired laugh as the baby grabbed at Scott’s tresses whilst she signed. “You’ve got a fan of the hair, Scott!” She laughed again, more deeply this time. The kid’s bright blue eyes were wide as she was rocked against her dad’s shoulder. No, not the hair. The person it belonged to. Mostly for the excellent hugs and snuggles, she was a baby after all.

 

“I can't do this, Scott.” It was the evening of her first full day back at training. “I can’t fucking do this. I'm insane.” Her legs trembled in the doorway. Tessa reached out a hand for him. “Scott.”

“I'm here, I'm here.” He guided her through the hallway, into the living room and onto their couch. “What makes you say that?”

Tessa was breathing heavily, clutching her chest. “It hurts so damn much.” She said through gritted teeth. They had slowly been weaning the baby off of breast milk but obviously not as much as they should’ve. Small tears of pain and exasperation escaped Tessa’s lids as she looked up at her partner.

“I'll get the pump,” Scott said, rushing out of the room. It was a short term solution, but hell if he wasn't going to do everything he could to make her feel better right now.

“Get the normatec too!”

It crushed him to see her like this. For every effort he put into training he knew she put in a least twice that. And for the time he spent recovering from their training she would lie there in dim pain, working through it.

 

So quickly their daughter was three months. Not so quickly it felt, the soreness in her breasts finally started to die down and Tessa could see her abdomen again. Almost herself. Almost. Scott and her would sit, far from picture perfect, and just hold their kid at the end of each day.

“We’re sorry we've been away so long baby.”

She gurgled. Tiny arms stretched out, dribbles of drool escaping her mouth.

"Blah ba bah la laaah" Clara babbled happily, spit falling onto her chin and then onto her parents.

“We love you so much.” Tessa lifted their daughter under the arms so that she was face to face with her. “I love you.” It was almost inaudible. Tessa placed a tiny kiss on Clara’s nose and nuzzled her daughter as the infant’s eyes fluttered shut, pink skin almost transparent in the moonlight. “Mmmm, yes I do.”

Soon Tessa was asleep as well, head resting against Scott’s shoulder, body curled up and turned towards him next to her as he cradled their little gift. At three months, their daughter already had a steady mop of soft brown curls, which Scott had the awful habit of twisting round his fingers when she was asleep. And when she was awake he would do this too, her blue eyes looking up inquisitively at him, her face scrunching up almost comically.

“Love you two. I'm so lucky.” Scott carried both his girls to bed. First the baby, gently rocking her as she fussed in his arms, waking momentarily when he went to place her in her cot; and then as he did every day (in a very different context) he lifted his not yet wife, placed a kiss to her forehead as well, and tucked them both into their respective beds. For all his foolishness as a young man, he could never have imagined that this would be his life.

The four months they had until their first competition were possibly some of the most rewarding and painful months of their entire lives. Rewarding because their daughter was great and so was their training. Painful because their daughter was a nightmare are so was their training. It was a double edged sword. The more they worked the less they saw of her, the more they saw of her the less they worked. The balancing act required of them was immense. Therapy was… a necessity.

 

“Tess, you ready?” Scott asked her.

“Almost, did you feed Clara?”

“Yes, and there’s enough formula in the pantry for the rest of the week and I’ve express ordered more.”

She sighed with relief, leaned in and pressed a quick kiss onto his cheek. “Thank-you.”

“You sort out your deal with Adidas?”

“Yep, we’re meeting next Friday evening and I just sorted out the rest of the dates for Clara with Anna for the next few weeks.” Tessa pulled her shoes on and picked up her daughter.

“Ma, mom,” the baby babbled. “Ma.” Tessa smirked. Clara had very much taken to saying 'Ma' and 'mom' before dad. Little did she know that Scott had been training their daughter to do such things; he considered himself the real winner out of all of it.

“Hello, precious,” Tessa said affectionately. “Mama’s gotta go with daddy to go to therapy and training, okay.” Clara grabbed at her mother’s nose and let out a cry as Tessa let out a small pitched sigh. “Mmm baby, please don’t be sad.” Tessa sniffed and pulled herself together, leaving a kiss on her daughter’s forehead.

Tessa left Scott to say goodbye himself and went to pack their skates into the car.

“Hey little buddy,” Scott said kneeling down and picking up his daughter. Her face was flushed red as she frowned in the direction her mother had left. “Yeah, I love her too.”

“You two all set?” Anna, the nanny, asked heading down the stairs.

“Yes, thank-you,” Tessa said returning from the garage and waving goodbye to their daughters tear streaked face. Oh, how she wanted to stay.

 

They spent many hours with JF angsting over their training plans in the weeks leading up to competition. Talking through their routines, confessing their deepest worries and fears, running through hypotheticals.

“Let’s say you were to come dead last in every competition—” Scott was already shaking his head at their mental prep coach. JF stared him down again until he stopped shaking it.

The older man started up again. “Let’s say you were to come dead last in every competition, what would you do?”

There was silence for a few moments. Tessa blinked a few times and rocked her knee up and down gently beside Scott, muscle memory from when it was the only way to calm their daughter down, she guessed.

“Have we improved in this scenario?” she asked.

“Do you think you have?”

“No, not yet,” Scott said.

Tessa nodded. “But we will.”

“We wouldn’t be happy,” Scott said.

“But we have the plan,” Tessa finished.

“And as long as we keep getting better...” Scott said.

 

Holding hands in the kiss and cry they barely got enough the in Autumn Classic that September — and that's only because the rules had changed once more, invalidating several other team’s elements.

“Tessa and Scott have earned one-hundred and twenty-two point four nine points in the free dance, for a total score of two-hundred and five point two nine. They are currently in first place.”

(82.8)

‘The fucking judges,’ he thought; Scott was livid. The whole thing was a farce. They had skated third last, got a guaranteed medal position but not by the margin they wanted or needed. Tessa felt guilty. Scott felt even more guilty. They thought about their daughter in the crowd with their mothers, her tiny face scrunching in on itself as she slept, small fingers creeping out of the blankets and into the cold arena only to get too cold again and sneak back in seconds later.

He could feel chills running across his skin, small and prickly, full of anger and worry. Seeing the torn look on Scott’s face as he looked around the rink almost panicked, Tessa offered her other hand to him to ground themselves to one another. “It's gonna be okay. We have each other.”

He nodded.

“Scott.” Her eyes met his, green on hazel-brown, soft and inviting, like coming home. “It’s okay.”

_What a gift you are to one another._

They smiled for the crowd.

 

It was an hour before sunrise and three weeks after the Autumn Classic.

“Wake-up Tess.” Scott kneeled on the bed beside her and leaned over to whisper in Tessa’s ear through the dark, nose brushing her cheek. He leaned back and sighed. Her alarm was beeping incessantly on the bedside table. Tessa flipped over and sighed, almost rolling off of the bed. She hit the alarm with her palm, resulting in a loud thud.

“Morning,” she grumbled, placing a quick peck on his nearest body part — which just happened to be his knee. Scott did the same on her cheek and scuttled off of the bed to the light switch. Soon, a bright incandescent glow filled the space and Tessa was sliding on slippers, trudging to the bathroom and muttering: “can you check if she slept alright,” with a yawn.

Scott walked quietly down the hallway and peered into their daughter’s room. The pink nightlight lit up his face as he took a cursory look around, eyes stopping at every toy, fond memories attached, he decided to let Clara get some more sleep. She looked more like Tessa when she slept, he thought. Her hair was already starting to lighten to Tessa’s natural colour, and he would have bet that those currently still blue eyes would turn out just as green as his partner’s. The baby was pretty restless when she wanted to be as well. Just a couple of days beforehand she had cried through the early hours of the morning and into the sunrise for the second day in a row, and they had turned up at Gadbois looking like something the cat had dragged in. After raised eyebrows from both Madi Chock and Madi Hubbell, and a look of extreme sympathy from Marie-France, Patch had sent them home early where they had collapsed and slept through the rest of the day.

Back in the present, today they had to be in early for ice time, Patch needing to fit as many of the senior teams on the ice before lunch as possible, a strict training plan to follow. Tessa was quick to get ready, and so was Scott who eventually mustered up the courage to wake Clara. In no time, the whole family were bundled up for the slowly decreasing weather and on their way to the rink. Their nanny had needed the morning off to go to a family funeral, so the baby was joining them today.

Scott drove as quietly as possible down the sleety streets in the darkness, stopping abruptly at a red light. Tessa fiddled with the baby in the backseat.

“Sshh,” she cooed, “I know it’s early, I know it’s cold.” She straightened the little beanie on her daughter’s head. “Mommy knows.” She looked to the front seat of the car as the lights turned green again and Scott made a right hand turn. “So does daddy.” Tessa held the baby’s tiny hands in hers, slowly rubbing warmth back into them as the car heated up too. She placed a kiss on each delicate hand. “Mommy knows.”

Scott’s heart melted into a puddle from the driver’s seat. He briefly pondered how Tessa Virtue should be a nationally recognised distraction whilst driving, along with phones and laser pointers.

The sun was still stubbornly sitting below the horizon when Scott pulled into the parking lot at Gadbois. As Tessa unbuckled Clara, and Scott heaved her pram from the boot, a woman walked past them on her way to the entrance.

“Morning Danielle!” He yelled across the lot to the Zamboni driver.

“Hi Scott, hi Tessa!” she said back with a wave, heading their way. The pram landed on the ground with a click as it sprung open. Scott mentally thanked Tessa for choosing one that did not require much assembly. Danielle spotted Tessa, standing with Clara in her arms, the baby covered in more layers than probably necessary.

“Hello, little miss,” Danielle addressed the little girl, half asleep and grumbling.

“Sorry,” Tessa said. “She’s in a mood.”

“It might be a bit early for the little one,” Scott added.

“Oh, that’s okay,” Danielle cooed. “Gosh, aren’t you precious,” she continued, as Tessa carefully placed Clara down into the pram, her baby’s head lolling to the side in sleep already, arms disappearing under fluffy light pink blankets. The Zamboni operator laughed with a little aww at the sight. Scott heaved the nappy bag over one shoulder and rolled his skating bag along to stand beside him, the other hand closing the trunk of the car.

The rink was usually pretty quiet this early, but there were a few other skaters around to greet them.

“Hi Ellie!” Tessa said, voice far brighter and awake than she felt.

“Simon, my man!” Scott said enthusiastically, giving the young man a high five as he wheeled the pram past.

“Aww, she’s so small,” Ellie breathed out, catching sight of Clara. Tessa didn’t need to be reminded, this fact scared her to death.

They found a bench to themselves on the over ice area behind the stands and started to warm up. No-one was on the ice yet and Patrice had only just gotten there, so they had some time. As Tessa stretched out against the wall, Scott started sit-ups. Only five minutes had sped by before Clara was awake again. She cried for her parents from her blankets and Tessa immediately reacted, head spinning rapidly towards her daughter from where she was starting her exercises, ponytail swishing as she did so.

“I’ve got her,” Scott reassured his partner, stopping his own routine and holding up a hand to stop Tessa from rushing over. Scott picked Clara up easily and she squirmed a little as he eased her into the baby carrier and strapped her onto his back. He went back to his warm up, daughter nodding off as his pushups and stretches rocked her back to sleep.

Tessa kept an eye on the time whilst they warmed up. When it hit seven twenty-five she snuck up behind Scott.

“Time,” she said. He knew what she meant. They gathered their stuff, dropped the rest by the locker room and headed down to the ice, navigating the long hallways with the pram.

Having Clara there whilst they trained was extremely distracting to say the least. They would start work on their pattern and there she would be by the gate in her pram, wide eyes staring at her parents, giggling. They would skate near to her and then away again for a movement and she would cry out for her parents. Scott would grab Tessa’s arm for a move and her little blue eyes would follow his hands, looking up to meet her father’s eyes. _What are you doing? She’s mine!_ And, when shewould finally settle down someone would walk by, throw her a kiss and a funny face and she would start the hysterics again.

Clara was like the exhibit for the morning. Still just a baby, she didn’t know it at the time but what many of the adults surrounding her would give to have her raw talent was immense. Madi Hubbell, arriving early for her ice time, was particularly enthralled with the little girl.

“Good morning little Virtue-Moir,” she whispered, kneeling down beside the pram. Blue eyes met blue. Madi leaned in to whisper something else. Clara caught sight of her curly blonde hair in a flash and was instantly enthralled herself. The baby babbled something unintelligible and grabbed in the direction of Madi’s hair, sending one of the curls swinging. The kid giggled. “Oh, so you like that hair do you?” Madi asked, utterly enraptured by the baby’s smiling face. “Hey, Clara, look,” Madi said, swinging her head, curls bobbing up and down. Clara laughed even harder, high-pitched and snorting, shaking back and forth in her blankets.

It was just as well Clara wasn’t there everyday, or Montreal very well might not have had any ice dancers left come Grand-Prix season.

 

“Three, two, one, and you’re live.”

“Hello, and welcome back to the NBC commentary of the second 2019 Grand Prix event of the season, Skate Canada International, I’m Tanith White,” she started.

“And I’m Terry Gannon.”

“And we heading into the second ice dance group here where we’ll see the reigning Olympic Champions Tessa Virtue and Scott Moir in their second comeback.”

“So, Tanith, Virtue and Moir took last season off after the Olympics and she gave birth to a daughter in May, how hard is it to go back to skating so soon after being pregnant?” her cohost asked.

“Well, Terry,” Tanith started, “Isobel Delobel did it for the 2010 Olympics after four and a half months, they came sixth. It's been five months for Tessa. But, honestly, this team, Virtue and Moir, they are the greatest of all time, they are such a powerhouse that I think it would be a huge mistake to underestimate them, even now. And I have to say I didn’t go back to competition but it isn’t a breeze, I assure you.”

“We have each other,” Scott repeated to her like a mantra as they waited for their rhythm dance scores with Marie-France in the Kiss and Cry. Scott was on her left, holding that hand so tightly that she swore that it was near falling off, and Marie-France was on her right holding her other hand. Just their presence soothed so much of her anxiety. Tessa looked up nervously just as the announcer started.

“Tessa Virtue and Scott Moir have earned eighty-nine point eight five points. This is a new season's best for them.”

“World record.” They heard Marie France whisper as they sighed with relief. Scott met Tessa’s eyes, the opposite of their previous competition.

“Looks like it’s gonna be okay after all.”

“Yes, I feel very validated. It's nice to be right,” she joked, leaning in.

“Way to go Virtch!” He was ecstatic, his enthusiasm infectious as they stood to greet the crowd. “I love you kiddo,” he said as they hugged once more, sweaty bodies pressed close.

_Scott can do no wrong in my eyes._

 

It was around the NHK Trophy in mid November that Scott really started to feel old. “Tess, I'm like thirteen years older than some of these kids,” he complained one morning.

“Thirteen Years better,” she reminded him. This was a half lie. When they were these kids ages they were world medalists poised to become Olympic and world champions. But the Virtue-Moirs were always a humble bunch, so she didn't bring it up. Besides, she knew that his ‘complaining’ was mostly in jest anyways.

_I don’t think she knows she keeps me alive._

 

Just two weeks later, Tessa found herself alone with the baby. The screaming was driving her insane. It was the third hour now and Tessa just needed peace and quiet. Not for the first time, she wished that Scott hadn’t left for Ilderton for the weekend, that she wasn’t alone with the baby. Every second with Clara was ear piercing torture. Rocking her hadn’t worked. Feeding her hadn’t worked. Reading to her hadn’t worked. She didn’t have a temperature. Even singing had barely made a dent in the baby’s determined shrieks. So Clara was in her crib and her mother was in the bed next to it, pillow over her ears to block out the sound. She had never known that a sound like that could come from something so small, could have such an effect, bring her to exasperated tears so quickly and last so very long.

“Please,” Tessa cried. “Please, Clara sweetheart, I don’t know what you want. Please, I am _begging_ you, please be quiet.”

It didn’t stop. Tessa felt the overwhelming urge to run away, to escape somehow. She would pack a bag and leave in clothes that weren’t milk stained and never have to feel this exhaustion again, run through fields and be free, feel the sun on her face and the wind in her hair, screams a distant and forgotten memory. She felt thick guilt seep through her and stick to every crevice like pitch. Never.

“Please, shut up. Please, Clara, I need you to sleep.” Both their faces were tear stained and it was gaining on four hours now and although the baby was quieter, the sounds were still there and her mother had gone from frustrated and exasperated to blunt. Tessa was at her wits end.

Around four and a half hours in, the noise slowed to quiet whimpers and between six and seven hours, they both passed out from exhaustion.

Clara’s father would pick her up the next morning and exclaim brightly: “how’s my good little girl?!” He was lucky that Tessa was still passed out under their sheets at that point.

 

Scott stressed about letting Tessa down in the lead up to the Grand Prix final. ‘What if we lose what little momentum we have?’ He would say. What if he messed up and that meant that all the extra work she had put in after having their daughter would be nullified? all because he couldn't step up… the Grand Prix final was never their event, what if… _they didn't even make the podium?_ It was entirely possible and he knew it. Then, what if he worked _too_ hard. What if he was injured working so hard and they didn't make it to nationals? Or worlds?

So he told her all his fears. They spent hours with their mental prep coach and therapist talking about them once more. And her worries too. Was she just too ambitious for her own good? Was she setting herself up for disaster? To crash and burn? Why did they do this to themselves?

Then there was the big one. The question that haunted them at night and plagued their time during the day. Did this all make them bad parents? The long days at the rink and the early mornings, having to get others to take care of her. The guilt every morning leaving their daughter with someone else — even if that someone was usually family or a close friend. Scott sometimes felt that his daughter got the worst of him when they arrived home after a long day, having already given so much to their skating.

 

The French pulled out of the Grand Prix Final with only two weeks to go. Injury. The same one that had been blamed when Tessa and Scott had beaten them at the NHK Trophy and set more records there.

“Wow,” was all Tracy could say as Tessa and Scott finished their grand prix final free dance. Of course it was a world record. Of course they felt on top of the world, and of course the first person they went to after their win was their daughter. Scott climbed up into the stands to take her sleepy self from Kate Virtue and Alma Moir, and him and Tessa cried tears of joy and relief into their daughter’s blankets.

“We love you sweetheart,” Tessa whispered with a kiss as she handed their little girl to Marie-France, taking Scott’s hand and waving to the roaring crowd, their little ritual now. That this win wasn't enough went unspoken. They still needed to win in Montreal in a few months. Worlds was the end goal, make no mistake about it.

 

After the Grand Prix final and shortly before Christmas, they were married. It was a small ceremony situated between London and Ilderton. Tessa walked herself down the aisle, gorgeous as always in an Audrey inspired gown, a sparkling smile that could melt even the coldest of hearts. Their first dance was at the Ilderton rink before the reception, not being able to resist the opportunity to dance on the ice for the first time as man and wife. They stroked around for a bit until they fell back into old patterns, tried a couple lifts until she was in his arms, her legs crossed over neatly as they sped across the ice, comforted by the sound and slide of his blades. After all that time, they still fit together on and off the ice like puzzle pieces, perhaps not purpose built for one another, but determined to shape themselves in their best image, if not for themselves then for one another. So that’s why their first time across the ice as husband and wife was a private one. This marriage, this partnership, this wedding... it wasn’t for their families or their fans or even legal reasons, it was for themselves. It was because when Tessa wrapped her arm around his torso as they glided around at an increasing speed, she trusted that they wouldn’t run into the boards. She trusted that he knew exactly where to hold her when she needed him and when to let her go. She trusted that he knew that she would do the same. Because she could close her eyes at any point and know exactly where he was and not only that but didn’t actually care if he was far away, because he would always come back to her, that was certain.

 

There were highlights, ups and downs and laughs so deep they were certain that they could never have laughed any harder. Tessa and Scott’s siblings even teamed up at one point during the night and told a few more questionable stories, some of which the couple would have preferred stayed secret.

“Tessa vehemently denies this,” Jordan started, “so I'm going to have to tell you all myself. It was love at first sight.”

Tessa blushed brightly at her sister’s worlds, squeezing Scott’s hand under the table.

“Scott vehemently denies this as well,” Danny Moir this time, “but he has loved her ever since they were a little girl and boy holding hands on the ice for the first time.”

Kevin, one of Tessa’s older brothers, recounted how he threatened Scott before their first junior worlds, and Casey jumped in with his own (much more light hearted) ‘I threatened Scott’ stories, involving their move to Canton and the Vancouver Olympics, as well a slightly questionable Canada Day incident that involved an old pair of skates and half a dozen sparklers. And, Tessa's brothers embarrassed her beyond belief telling highly detail stories of "Sam's little crush on Scotty."

Alma and Carol, however, had the most impactful speeches of the night. By the time they were finished, the happy couple were _both_ uncharacteristically wiping tears from the corners of their eyes.

“I'm so glad I wore waterproof mascara.” Tessa laugh-cried into Scott’s shoulder for almost the second time that night.

Then they all danced, Sheri and Danny led a group number to Thriller, Scott dragged Tessa onto the floor for Footloose, and baby Virtue-Moir stumbled and crawled around occasionally tripping people over until a loving adult scooped her up and covered her with kisses. In fact, that little girl was having the time of her life. First Chiddy and his fiancé cooed over her, Kaitlyn, Kaetlyn and Andrew taking over after about twenty minutes, then she was passed onto to the Moir's where Alma and Joe were so protective they almost didn't allow Kate Virtue her time with the little one. The kid’s whole extended family loving dotted over her the entire evening.

 

“Love you, so so much,” Scott mumbled into Tessa’s soft strawberry scented curls under the gazebo later that night. She smelt amazing, like home, and her hair was almost as dark as the sky and pinned back elegantly. She stood, back to him, head against his chest, close as can be, swaying to the music.

“I love you too,” Tessa beamed into the crook of his neck, closing her eyes as they melted into one other’s arms. Her voice was like fresh popcorn mixed with caramel and honey; warm and raw and inviting so much so that it made him want to cry for the love and familiarity of it all, but with a low sort of fire behind it as it broke slightly in the middle of her sentence. Her voice. He could write poetry about her voice. Her _real_ voice. Her deepest thoughts and feelings could be conveyed through a single word and her voice would have them be perfectly understandable. It was something only reserved for the luckiest people in this world and he was privileged to be amongst them.

His hair flopped a little into his eyes as she tilted her head back around. “Mr. Virtue-Moir,” she continued. If she weren’t quite literally leaning against him those two words would have brought him to his knees.

“Ms. Virtue-Moir.”

She laughed gently, voice dissipating into the cold December air and pearly whites gleaming under the fairy lights.

“And Little Miss Virtue-Moir,” she said enthusiastically, their eyes met one another’s and then their daughter’s below, she had crawled up and was now sitting on the edge of Tessa’s dress.

“My two favourite ladies!” Scott kneeled down and picked the toddler up. “Mwah.” He pressed a quick kiss to each of their heads (only one squirmed and recoiled).

“Picture perfect!” Someone yelled, taking a picture.

“Jeje!” Tessa giggled holding one hand up against the second flash, the other still holding her husband’s. Her _husband_.

 

* * *

 

**2020**

Canadian Nationals didn’t hold anything new. Another win, nine-time Canadian Champions, another group of juniors moving up to the Senior ranks, and another new Canadian team was announced. The moment they were announced onto the team for the ISU Championships there was a sense of home for the couple, this was what they did. And this was what they did so very well. The Four Continents win the next month was just the cherry on the cake.

Worlds in Montreal approached, looming and quickly. Their daughter grew and they trained and soon they found themselves in the official practice rink, answering questions for Golden Skate.

“So, it’s your first worlds back after having a baby,” the interviewer started, addressing Tessa. She was starting to wonder if there was a question there and nodded curtly, looking over at Scott.

“Yes.”

“How has that changed how you train?” the interviewer finished.

“Well,” Tessa said, being careful with her word choices, “it was definitely something that we had to consider; because obviously my body has changed, and that will affect how I train and how I move and then how we move and are in sync as a unit.” She took a deep breath. “One of our biggest concerns was really giving it all but still being aware that we are different people now and we also have family to balance with training.”

“Good answer,” Scott whispered as the camera panned back to the interviewer for the next question.

“Scott?” the man asked, keen for his opinion.

“Absolutely, just as Tessa said. We are really just trying to focus on finding the best balance possible between skating and being able to spend time with our daughter,” Scott said.

Questions nowadays had changed. ‘What do you think of the judging?’, ‘are you dating?’ and ‘how is it to be older athletes?’ had rapidly devolved into: ‘how are you parents and still training?’, ‘what is it like to come back to the sport after pregnancy?’ and ‘do you want your daughter to become a figure skater?’.

They tried to focus on their training, however. To ignore the questions and criticisms, the fans and the media. The most important thing now was to give their all. This was going to be their worlds.

“Rod,” Tracy Wilson said in shock as the rhythm dance score appeared. “THAT’S the first perfect score ever recorded in any discipline.”

“Just the greatest,” Rod affirmed.

“Absolute perfection,” Tracy said, her voice filled with the years she had cheered on these (still in her eyes) kids.

It was hugs all around in the kiss and cry.

Montreal had a beautiful arena and they were determined to continue to make the most of skating on what was home ice. And as they stood on at centre ice for the free warmup, it felt damn good to hear the PJ say: “from Canada Tessa Virtue and Scott Moir!” for the third time in just a few days. Tessa could hear how loud the locals cheered, was almost sure that she heard Charlie (or was it Danny?) yell ‘that’s my baby brother!’.

“Skaters, you have five minutes for your warmup.”

Scott’s hand slipped out of hers and they sped away from one another to opposite sides of the rink. They felt out the ice under their skates, air rushing past them as they curved around the arena. After about half their time was up, Tessa slowed to an even jogging pace stroking around the edge as Scott came up behind her. They had faith in their free, in their training.

“Tessa Virtue and Scott Moir. This couple from Canada are three-time world champions and two-time Olympic champions in Vancouver and Pyeongchang. They teamed up in nineteen ninety-eight and are skating at the world championships together for the ninth time.”

Scott winked at her. The crowd cheered.

“Gabriella Papadakis and Guillaume Cizeron. This French couple are three time world champions,” boomed around the arena.

If that reminder wasn’t enough to refuel Tessa and Scott with the desire to win.

“They won the Olympic silver medal in Pyeongchang and train here in Montreal,” the woman finished once more.

They had drawn fifth in the free dance two days beforehand. Just before the French and after Hubbell and Donohue. It wasn’t ideal for Marie and Patch coaching-wise, especially since it meant four Gadbois teams in a row, but their friends and coaches would have to make do.

 

Patch did the maths after Tessa and Scott’s excellent free dance scores came in. A realisation. The French were next. Even if the French scored a perfect score (which they wouldn't go on to do), with the Canadian’s perfect rhythm dance score and stunningly close to perfect free dance, the Canadians were guaranteed the win. As Tessa and Scott left the kiss and cry and Gabi and Guillaume headed out onto the ice, Patrice quickly pulled his Canadian protégés aside.

“You’ve won.”

“But Gabi and —” Tessa started, confused.

“Your scores are too high for them to beat you,” Patch continued.

“Are you sure?” Scott said.

“Yes.” Patch gave him a quick pat on the shoulder and headed backstage to deal with the rest of the Gadbois teams. Someone was inevitably going to need consoling tonight.

The two Canadians stood there backstage in disbelief. There were far too many cameras around to truly outwardly celebrate. Scott picked her up in a tight hug.

“We did it, T,” he whispered out of view as he set her down. She beamed up at him, absolutely glowing. ‘I'm so proud of you,’ the look said.

 

Forty-five minutes later...

“First, and world ice dance champions for twenty-twenty,” a voice boomed over the loudspeaker, “from Canada! Tessa Virtue, Scott Moir!” The announcer dragged their names out dramatically as they waved happily to the crowd.

 

@scottmoir: :D

@vmfan89: @scottmoir, I thought you didn’t use emojis? @tessavirtue?

@scottmoir: @vmfan89 @tessavirtue I’m a dad now, incorrect use of emojis is part of the job

@tessavirtue: @vmfan89 @scottmoir. He takes his dad duties very seriously.

 

Clara was so small and delicate and _breakable_ that even though they spent their days there, they were terrified to take her onto the ice in actual skates for the first time. The little girl’s legs were shaky on the ice, hesitation evident in her calculating glances around. She was a perfectionist like her mom.

They started by stroking around the ice with Clara between them, her hands held firmly by each parent. Every few meters or so the gentle whoosh of all six blades would be interrupted with a stutter as Clara tripped on her toepick and they pulled her back up.

As Clara almost fell for the tenth time, her face turned a shade redder and her eyebrows angled up in frustration. She let out a little whimper. Tessa’s head turned so fast that one might think she would have gotten whiplash.

“Hey, hey,” Scott said, noticing the girl’s distress. He picked her up placing a kiss on her hair, and held her above his head. “See, all better.” Scott cradled her in his arms and shared a look with his wife. ‘Girl just needed cuddles, see?’

“Does mommy get a cuddle?” Tessa asked lightly, holding out her own arms. Clara giggled as her dad spun her around at top speed.

“Mommy! Mommy!” she shouted from her father’s arms, little pink fingers grabbing at thin air. “Mommy cuddles!” The spinning slowed.

“Clara cuddles!” Tessa exclaimed as Scott passed Clara over. The ice fought her a little more with more weight than usual, but Tessa did a quick few laps of the rink as her daughter rested her head against her shoulder, face tucked away into the crook of her mother’s neck.

“You want to go back to daddy?” Tessa asked after a while.

“Oh, I don’t know,” Scott said with a chuckle, “I might have to retire, you two are very good. Maybe you can go to the Olympics and I’ll just sit here and cheer.”

Tessa’s cheeks flushed pink and it wasn’t from the skating.

Scott kneeled down on the ice a few meters away from the gate and beckoned as Tessa placed Clara back down.

“Come on sweetheart, you can do it!” he encouraged.

“Go on,” Tessa whispered in their daughter’s ear.

Clara pulled at the sleeve of her Canada sweater nervously and steeled herself. Like daddy’s little girl she found her footing and half skated half messily fell into her father’s arms. His heart grew, tears in his eyes. Patch, seeing them out on the ice as a family, snapped a picture of the moment from the stands with a smile.

“Eh!!” Scott cheered as Clara threw her hands around his neck in earnest. Tessa was clapping and laughing, head tilted back as she slowly skated over. Scott helped Clara stand in her skates, holding both of her hands from behind. “You want to try to go back to Mommy?”

Tessa held her hands out for Clara’s and heaved her daughter into her arms and onto her hip once more. “Teamwork,” Tessa said enthusiastically as the parents high-fived.

 

@scottmoir14: everyone and everything I love in one picture. My family, skating, and Canada!

[image: Scott and Tessa cheering as their daughter in her Canada sweater skated towards Scott]

 

* * *

 

**2021**

By the time they had their fifth world title in 2021 in Stockholm, Clara was really starting to hold her own. So far, her favourite activities were: skating, building with lego, and eating. Before they had to leave for each competition Tessa and Scott would make sure that they dedicated one of their days off purely to spending time with their daughter. Such as it was the weekend before they were due to leave for the 2021 Grand Prix Final and both parents found themselves surrounded by thousands of tiny lego pieces in Clara’s bedroom.

“So, little miss, what are we building?” Scott asked her.

“A tree... a treehouse,” their daughter answered, picking through the box and pulling out a handful of lego bricks. Tessa and Scott started rifling through themselves and picking out the green and brown bricks. They started a pile whilst their daughter built on the green mat. She tapped a pink brick in several times to get it to stick, looking pleased with herself.

“Hey, sweetheart, we found you some green and brown bricks for the tree,” Tessa said. Clara shook her head back and forth, looked and them and frowned, shaking her head back and forth once more.

“No, no, no.” She laughed. “No, silly Mommy, it’s a rainbow tree!” Her parents couldn’t help but smile in response. Tessa looked around and found a blue piece. She extended her open hand to Clara as a peace offering. “Thank-you, Mommy,” the little girl said, remembering her manners, carefully manoeuvring the blue brick into where she was happy with it.

After a little more rifling and building as a family, Clara instructing them on what she wanted them to do and where, Scott scooted over to sit beside Tessa, black Canada tee pulled tight over his muscles. Tessa sighed, yawned, slipping her arm around his she rested her head against his shoulder, and closed her eyes.

“This’s nice,” she said quietly, feeling the warmth of the fading afternoon light on herlids.

“Mommy?” Clara toddled up to them, falling into Tessa’s lap. “Mommy, Daddy, I’m done!” Never a moment of peace in this household. She crawled over her mom and onto her Dad’s lap. “Do you like it?!”

“I think it’s great!” He exclaimed, eyeing the jumbled stack of multi-coloured bricks.

“That’s us on the top,” Clara said, pointing out three lego figures. Scott started bouncing her on his lap as she laughed. Her laughing turned to snorting and then she started to cough. He stilled her as she finished coughing.

“I think it’s probably time for bath time, what do you think, Daddy?” Tessa addressed her family, keeping an eye on the clock. Scott raised his eye brows at her. His wife gave him a ‘shut up’ look with a smirk.

“Clara?” Scott said. “Bath time, what do you think?” She nodded vigorously and he picked her up and raised her over his head on the way to the bathroom. “You’re an airplane!! Wheeeee!” He exclaimed, making propellor sounds. Tessa rolled her eyes with a smile broadening on her cheeks, eyes crinkled.

‘Bath time’ was a whole family affair. Scott had decided when Clara was very little that a super soaker would make the event... more interesting, and indeed it did. Tessa still wasn’t sure whether that was a good thing, though.

“Hey!” Tessa walked in to Scott and Clara sitting on the floor with the bath running next to them.

“You want to pick your pjs?” Tessa asked her daughter. The pitter patter of tiny feet rang through the house as the kid nodded, heading past her mother and down the hall to her room.

“Green! Green!” The girl shouted, jumping onto the bed. Her mother laughed.

“Green with dots or green with bears?” Tessa held up two options. Clara’s face scrunched up as she pondered. She pointed to the bears. Scott shook his head from the doorway.

“What do we say?” He prompted her.

“The bears, please,” Clara said, looking from her father back to her mother, eagerly.

Retreating from the bathroom later that night to go get dinner ready, Scott took one last shot with the super soaker, met eyes with Tessa, saw them go wide in realisation and let loose. Clara splashed around in the bubbles, sticking her hands into the mound of foam experimentally. The toddler’s eyes filled with glee as her mother was soaked from head to toe.

“Scott!!!” Tessa yelled in disbelief, watching him leave from the doorway. She turned her head back to her splashing gleeful child to be met with a face full of bubbles. Tessa spluttered through the foam as their daughter keened over in laughter. “Okay, young lady, I love you but bath time’s over.”

Grumpy Clara took over as Tessa slid her out of the bath to dry her off, wrangling her into mint pyjamas. Tessa sat her little girl down carefully on the chaise at the end of her and Scott’s bed as she changed into her own stripy pyjamas.

“Mommy?” Clara asked her.

“Yes, sweetheart?” Tessa pulled her dripping hair out of a ponytail.

“How long will you be away?”

Tessa paused. “Just five days, okay.” Her daughter nodded. “Are you okay with that?” Tessa asked, kneeling down beside the chair. She nodded again.

“And I get to see you on the tv again?!” The kid perked up.

“If it’s not past your bedtime.” Tessa said. “Come on little missy.” Tessa stood up and held her hand out for Clara’s, who took at gladly as they descended the stairs. “Let’s see what your dad’s been up to.”

 

After dinner that evening, after tucking their daughter into bed, the two young parents heard a cry from the other room.

“I’ll get it,” Tessa sighed, pulling back the sheets. Her husband leaned in to stop her, a gentle hand rested on hers and a kiss to her temple.

“I’ll get it,” Scott said, “think of it as my apology for bath time,” he whispered.

Tiptoeing into Clara’s bedroom the nightlight shone, a bright orange glow filling the space.

“Hey, Clar, you okay?” He asked, sitting down at the end of his daughter’s bed. She shook her head vigorously before realising that it was wasn’t bright enough for that to be seen.

“No.”

“You want to tell me about it?”

“I had a nightmare.”

“Mhm.”

“There was a giant monster, and it was made of bubbles and it... it kept chasing me and then I woke up.”

“Do you want me to stay here whilst you fall asleep?”

She yawned wide and nodded.

He shooshed his daughter to sleep and soon she was sighing softly in time with the rise and fall of her small body.

He crept out on the pads of his feet, still looking back at the resting girl behind him. Scott was almost at the door until something hard crunched underfoot and he was jumping away, attempting to stay silent.

“Oh, Fuck, ouch, shit,” he muttered under his breath, hobbling out the door on one foot. He spotted the offending object. A lego brick. He had a newfound hate for those. He tiptoed back to the master suite to join his sleeping wife. Damned brick.

 

At this point, their daughter wasn’t at every competition anymore like when she was a baby, Tessa and Scott usually left her with their mothers who would fly up to Montreal to take care of their grand-daughter in a familiar environment.

They had just checked into the hotel for the Grand Prix final that year when a loud ringing sound emanated from Tessa’s bag. Surrounded by other skaters, she apologised and turned to her bag.

“Hang on, I've got to get this. Hello, Tessa speaking.”

“Tess,” it was her mom.

“Yeah, mom?”

“I'm sorry to bother you like this but it's an emergency, Clara is—” Tessa’s heart was in her throat almost immediately, emotions overwhelming her. Each breath felt like lead was filling her lungs, and all of a sudden it was far too bright in the lobby. Every possible scenario raced through her mind in a few split seconds.Her baby was _so_ small. Was she injured? Was she?

“What’s wrong?” Came out of her mouth before she could think.

Her mother continued. “Sweetheart, she’s been admitted to hospital—” No. No this wasn't happening. She wasn't halfway around the world when her daughter needed her this couldn't be happening. No. Dammit. She could feel her mascara drying against her cheeks as she tried to wipe away the tears that were slowly springing up. “She has pneumonia.”

It hit her like a tonne of bricks. _Pneumonia._ That little cough before they left, when they were both distracted by costumes and tickets and training. Tessa’s breathing quickened and panic truly set in.

“Is she… is she gonna be okay?”

“I don't know.”

“Can you text me the details please mom.”

“Yes, yes, sure. Oh, and Tessa, remember, she’s not alone, she has me and she has your sister and your brothers and every Moir from here to Ilderton, including Alma, okay.”

“Okay.” She hung up, staring at her phone, slightly dumbfounded, frozen as those around her kept on chatting noisily.

Tessa’s expression was tortured by the time she found Scott. He immediately recognised that something was wrong.

“Tess?” His words came out in a rush. “Are you okay?” Tessa raised her hand to her temple as she looked up at him.

“It’s Clara, Scott.”

All of a sudden it was very real. He had a daughter. _They_ had a daughter, and now was make it or break it time. All of a sudden they needed to step up. She needed them. It wasn’t a choice.

By the time they landed in Montreal, Tessa felt as if the consequences of their successes were starting to catch up to them. As if this was her particular punishment for being away. For being an inattentive wife. A bad mother.

Scott was an endless pit of worry also. She would try to calm him by reading the facts, but those weren’t what he needed to hear right now. He needed to hear the all clear. To hold their daughter’s hand. To have a wife beside him who wasn’t so rattled with her own insecurities. And Tessa desperately needed to be taken out of the protective bubble of denial she had drawn to protect her own heart.

And a little girl lying in a hospital bed back in Montreal, her grandparents by her side, just needed her parents.

Tessa rushed to her first as their taxi pulled up outside the children’s hospital.

“T, wait up!” Scott yelled after her as he dragged their luggage out of the car. Flustered, Tessa walked back to him, each step feeling like she was stuck in quicksand, taking an age in itself.

When they got to Clara’s floor Tessa fell hard into her mother’s arms. Kate raised a hand to her daughter’s dark curls in comfort.

“She’s so pale,” Scott said quietly, squinting through the glass.

Alma looked at her son and back to her daughter-in-law, then to her granddaughter.

“Dr. Roberts should be along in a minute.” Alma said.

Dr Roberts was a smiley woman in her mid forties. She had honey blonde hair and creases around her eyes as she greeted Clara and her family later that afternoon.

“I see Mom and Dad have joined us, nice to meet you,” she said brightly as she entered the ICU room, stethoscope in hand. “Good afternoon Miss Clara,” she continued.

“Hi Dr R,” Clara croaked.

“Hello, Dr Roberts, is it?” Tessa asked, reaching out a hand. “I’m Tessa, and this is my husband, Scott.”

“Nice to finally meet you. Yes, yes it is.” The doctor shook their hands and turned her attention to Clara’s chart.

 

Waking the next morning back stiff from the armchair, in an unknown room, Scott was confused for a moment until he remembered. He felt as if his facial muscles were being numbed one by one, like his lungs had decided that upon his brain remembering the past twenty four hours that it was not a good idea to even breathe. His eyes were drooped almost shut, tears stubbornly glistening along his waterline.

Scott’s eyes fell upon his daughter, as her drip dribbled in time with the tick of the clock. The tapes keeping everything in place were oversized for such a small child and looked so overwhelming on her. He could barely see her from behind the needles, the mask and solemness that surrounded them. In his peripheral, Tessa was stirring nearby. He slunk closer and his warm hands slid against his wife’s skin, her muscles softened at his calling and he could feel her breathe a deep sigh under his fingers. The most prominent sound was the re-assuring beep of the monitor as Clara slept, tiny chest rising and falling under a sea of white sheets. Her hospital gown was bright pink with tiny flowers in all the colours of the rainbow, stark again the setting. Scott’s left hand fell to Tessa’s waist, maroon jumper creeping up as his hand came to a rest on her hip, carving light patterns there. She held out one of her hands and his right hand took it with a squeeze, leaning backwards into him for a few seconds. This was not how their final run at the Olympics was supposed to start.

Tessa closed her eyes and took a slow deep breath. His smell intermingled with the room’s. Warmth and home pervertedly twisted with the sterile smell of disinfectant, idoform wafting through the dry air to the whir of the ventilation system.

Clara took her sweet time to be okay. They sat through almost a week until she was released. Muscles numbed from the seats. Sneakers scuffed from wear against the laminate. Their mothers stayed in town to take care of her whilst they trained. They took a path of no regret and threw themselves hard back into training. The Americans had won the Grand Prix final. Marie-France had texted them two days into their stay. They didn’t dare bring Clara back into a cold rink until Nationals where she sat there, toothy grinned through their warmup and free dance. As the scores were announced Alma promptly rushed the bundle of down jackets out again and into Joe’s waiting arms. Much to Clara’s chagrin, grandpa drove her back to the hotel early.

The Gadbois ice dancers all joined their coach — Marie-France — for dinner that evening after the Canadian team was announced. Patrice was with their American teams at their own Nationals. Tessa and Scott arrived at the restaurant to cheers just on time, Clara holding each of their hands and peering out from behind her parent’s legs.

“Hey!” Scott walked up and leaned over to give some of the younger skaters high fives. “Good job today, you were great,” he encouraged. Tessa, meanwhile, was embracing Marie-France.

“Congratulations, I’m so proud,” Marie said in her thick French-Canadian accent. As she and Tessa pulled away from one another Marie-France noticed the toddler planted firmly around her leg. “Bonne nuit, mon petit ange,” she said ruffling Clara’s hair.

“Auntie Marie!” Claire said looking up as her parents walked back to her.

“Hey, missy, do you want to let Marie go?” Scott said with a smile. His daughter squinted into her father’s gaze. “Mhm?” She narrowed her eyes even more and clutched tighter to Marie-France’s leg. Clara looked between her parents mischievously as Marie-France patted her head and tucked some of her frizzy brown hair behind her ears.

“Do you want to sit next to Billie-Rose, sweetheart?” Tessa offered her daughter. She nodded furiously, grinning even wider. Their coaches’ daughter had always treated Clara as a younger sister, per say, family. The twelve-year-old loved to play and mess around with the toddler and was not only fascinated with how small Clara was, but a natural at entertaining her no matter the setting.

The whole party sat down for dinner soon after. Marie-France at the head of the table, Tessa and Scott, Billie-Rose and Clara nearby, and her five other Canadian junior and senior ice dance teams down the table. It was a night of celebration. They laughed and they played games until they nearly burst. The environment that emanated from the Montreal-based-skaters was one of support and inclusion that reached wherever they might go, Marie-France and Patrice had ensured that. It warmed her heart as she drank her hot chocolate later that evening, to see Clara in Billie-Rose’s lap, crayon in hand, giggling manically as she tried to draw. The coach was pretty sure that the angry disembodied ‘head’ in the corner of the page was supposed to be the judges (c’est vrai, she thought), and that the various assortment of ‘people(?)’ on the podium were those seated around the table. She was also quite certain that the beaming face with disproportionate body to the side was her and she had never been more proud to be a coach, to have seen so many amazing young skaters grow up and to facilitate that growth and to have so many of those skaters (all grown up now!) surrounding her.

“Clara, five minutes,” Tessa warned her daughter, breaking their coach’s train of thought. “It’s getting late, we should really be off,” Tessa said warmly. The young woman leaned into Marie-France for a hug and her worries all seemed to slip away for that brief second in her pseudo-mother’s arms. It was then Scott’s turn. He was back into almost Olympic shape again and looked much older but also happier than Marie-France had ever seen him. It reassured her and brought her great joy to see the once driven then aimless young boy finally find his place in the world as a father, a husband and then finally and most importantly, as himself. She couldn’t help but notice out of the corner of her eye as Scott pulled out of their hug (which was decidedly mother-son like) the long streaks of crayon down the side of Billie’s dress. Oh dear.

“Oh my–“ Scott stuttered, “I’m so sorry,” he said, spotting the crayon markings too. “She shouldn’t’ve ever done that, I’m so sorry... I—”

“It’s fine, she’s two, she’s fine. C’est normale!” Marie-France reassured them, also seeing the same panic fly across Tessa’s face.

“Okay,” Tessa breathed out. “Okay, sorry, thank-you.” Scott picked up their daughter with a high-five from Billie-Rose and they walked together, hand-in-hand into the chilly night air. The coach watched them leave. She had a good feeling about them and what was going to happen next month.

By the time they reached the hotel, Clara had dosed off between her parents in the backseat, head resting on her mother’s lap, fuzzy hair pillowing against Tessa’s skirt. Her mother carried her out of the taxi as Scott paid the driver.

“Cheers man, thanks!” Scott said, as he finished the transaction. “You okay, T?”

“Yeah I think she’s just tired.” Their daughter yawned, tiny pink lips flexing as if to prove a point, punctuated with a small sigh and some drooling onto Tessa’s shoulder.

“Sleepy baby,” her parents laughed.

“We better get some sleep too.”

 _Not long to go until the Olympics_ , they both thought. They couldn’t decide whether that was a good or a bad thing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have a lot of free time over the next month or so so this story should be updating very regularly especially since I am almost finished writing it. :D thank-you! please comment, kudos and share.


	4. The Bright Blessed Day

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Olympics and Beyond.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> another 3,000ish words. Sorry it's so short I'm gonna write more in the next one but I am heading off on Tuesday to go camping (RIP) for a few days and wanted to get this up. Please enjoy.

The official Olympic practices were gruelling. They were taken back to the terror of Vancouver, sure this meant doom for them, so sure that this would mean the end. But they pulled it together in time, Virtue and Moir had had a perfect skate once more.

And a silver medal.

Second.

Not. First. Not. Gold.

Second.

Tessa looked at it the sheen of light glistening on the surface of the precious metal in her hands. On its own it was lamentably beautiful, a testament to all the work so many had put in to make them great. The colour glinted with such innocence, as if endeavouring to prove itself separate from its meaning. When she turned it over in the sunshine it would almost look gold, the yellow rays playing a trick of the light, a trick of the mind. If she left it by the window it was almost as if she could fool herself into thinking that things had played out differently. Tessa knew, however, from experience, that a silver medal placed next to a gold would look frigid, feckless and poisoned by corruption in comparison.

She had legitimately thought that she would feel worse with another silver after the gold last Olympics —like they had in Sochi — but, surprisingly, she was dealing with it much better than she thought she would. She really, truly, didn’t feel badly about it. Scott felt the same. They — leading the team once more — were immensely proud of their teammates, especially Marjorie and Zach who had skated the free dance for Canada and just beat the Americans out in the rankings by 0.15 points. They knew it wasn’t going to last forever, and they had barely scraped second as it was. Canada — and their little Canadian prodigies who were coming up through the junior ranks —had next time and Virtue and Moir were ‘too old to worry, T!’, content knowing they had their own chance at another gold in a week or so in the individual event.

“Scott,” Tessa said, slipping the silver medal into it’s case and into her back-pack, ready for the team interviews later. “You coming?”

“Yep, give me a minute T,” he said, pulling his CANADA emblazoned jacket back on. “Ready!”

They walked down the hallway, hand in hand to Scott’s room in semi-silence until —“Stevey!” Scott yelled after Stephen Gogolev, the sixteen year old he had taken under his wing. “you ready? we gotta go be hounded by—“ Tessa elbowed him gently, “interviewed,” he corrected himself.

“Hey guys!” Kaetlyn came bounding up to them, coffee in hand.

“Coffeeee.” Tessa spotted Kaetlyn’s beverage. Scott’s (Olympic gold medal worthy on their own) shoulders shook as he laughed at his wife’s sudden enthusiasm.

“It's decaf,” Kaetlyn clarified.

Tessa frowned. “I cannot wait for you to be a mom and curse the days you voluntarily drank decaf.”

“Hellooo!” Gabby Daleman said, walking up as they headed to leave Canada house.

They were one-hundred percent a team, these guys, and they couldn’t be prouder.

 

By the time Tessa and Scott had finished their free skate not only were their teammates weeping in the stands, but even the commentators were crying.

“If THAT is not a gold medal skate then nothing is!” Tanith Belbin White announced tearfully, forgetting momentarily that the Americans were currently in first position. Her fellow commentator, Scott Hamilton, was, at that particular point, speechless — as was Charlie White (and though he'd never say it, possibly just a tiny tad little teeny bit jealous).

“Watching these two,” Tracy Wilson said, “can I just say that it has been the pleasure of a lifetime to see them live once more.”

“Absolutely,’ Rod Black agreed for the Canadian audience at home. “They _are_ the greatest of all time.”

“I can't even watch—” Elena Ilinykh announced in speedy Russian, shaking. “I need a minute!”

“Can you imagine coming in as gold medal favourites for a fourth straight games?!” Another commentator said off in the distance. “The greatest.”

“And Virtue and Moir have done it again! Or should I say, the Virtue-Moirs. Truly the greatest ice dance team in history!” Belinda Noonan said triumphantly as their scores flashed through the arena.

The roar of the crowd. The ice rink felt warm. Scott and Tessa held hands as if their lives depended on it. They looked at each other. Tessa burst into tears first. Her wedding ring flashed dazzlingly as Scott took her face in his hands and wiped her tears away, smiling so wide it began to hurt. He kissed her. She ran her hands through his hair. Everyone was standing up, but it felt like it was just the two of them.

“Look at little Virtue-Moir covering her eyes; that’s too adorable!”

The camera panned to the curly-haired toddler who was wearing a “Go, Canada!” jersey that was one size too big, small hands hiding her eyes as her parents’ PDA flashed through on the Jumbotron. As she kicked around in her seat, her pink sneakers lit up. A large Pooh Bear doll was resting against her side, graciously given by Yuzuru Hanyu himself. When she put her hands down, the camera caught her brilliant emerald eyes and a delightful giggle, illiciting ‘awww’s from both the audience and on watchers across the globe.

Tessa and Scott quickly found her eyes and blew tearful kisses from the rink.

She jumped up from her seat next to her grandmother’s and aunt’s smiling faces and started waving, “Mama! Daddy!”

The crowd screamed even louder. The deafening shouts reverberated around them, engulfing the skaters and audience in a blanket of noise.

All the sacrifices they had made overwhelmed them both as memories of twelve and four years beforehand surrounded the two skaters. Every-time had been different. In Vancouver they had been so young, so naive and just taking it in, winning a far away but not too impossible dream. In Pyeongchang they were chasing to reclaim that glorious feeling from Vancouver after the heartbreak of Sochi had almost broken them and their partnership. And in Beijing they couldn’t be more different from the kids they had been when they won their first gold or even their second; they had perspective now and more reason than ever to make every second away from their baby girl worth it. To become more efficient, to do it for the love of it, for determination and to set the best example they could for her to follow every dream.

“We’re so proud of you two,” Marie-France and Patch told them as Tessa and Scott finally turned to their coaches either side. They were all crying, rather oblivious to the cameras surrounding them and zooming in as Marie-France leaned over and carefully wiped a solitary tear from her husband’s cheek with the sleeve of her jacket.

“Look at them,” Marie France said, emotions overtaking her as she moved around Tessa and Scott to embrace Patch.

This made the ice dance podium a North American sweep for the first time in Olympic history. Virtue and Moir got the gold for the third time, becoming both the youngest and oldest Olympic champions in ice dance as well as the most decorated —again; Hubbell & Donohue (USA) the silver; and Lajoie and Lagha (CAN) the bronze. The French, Papadakis and Cizeron? They were in seventh behind the third Canadians (4th), the Russians (5th), and second Americans (6th), this time not because of a ‘wardrobe malfunction’ but simply because they were, fundamentally, out-skated.

 

The first people to hug them other than their coaches were young Marjorie and Zach. “Congratulations!!”, and “I'm so happy for you,” the young skaters each said joyfully despite finishing below them, overjoyed to all be on the podium, pulling their training and teammates close.

As the three teams stood proudly on the podium later that evening, all looking sufficiently moved at the sight of their flags, Marie-France and Patch stood on the sidelines watching proudly.

“Look at all of them,” Marie-France said again, voice wavering. Patrice felt as if his heart might have burst.

 

Carrying the Canadian flag in the closing ceremonies was another defining moment for them both. At one point, broadcast for the world to see, Scott lifted Tessa (and the flag) high into the air whilst she laughed, raven hair flying behind her in the chilly winds of the Beijing night as they waved to the cameras and the crowds. It was _magic_ and they were legendary amongst the other Olympians.

‘Hey, aren’t they the married ice dancers?’

‘Not, just that John, they’re the most decorated figure skaters of all time, the greatest, we’re seeing history tonight.’

Canada went crazy when they returned from Beijing. If either Tessa or Scott had thought things were intense after Pyeongchang then this was a literal explosion of intensity that nothing could've prepared them for. They skipped the media this time. It wasn’t like the media could have been talking about them more, anyways. They prepared, instead, for their final worlds. “Our swan song” as she called it. Okay, maybe it was just an excuse to visit Europe when they still had a small child. Okay, maybe Tessa had been itching to compete in Paris again for a while now.

 

At worlds about a month later in a foreign city, in a foreign country, they became the most decorated ice dancers of all time, the podium an exact replica of the Olympic one. Their sixth world title went without a hitch and the judging was — miraculously — fair. It honestly seemed too good to be true.

_Truly, the Greatest of All Time._

 

* * *

 

**2023**

Canadian Nationals.

“GO MARJORIE! GO ZAC!” Scott yelled at the top of his lungs as the young skater’s left the ice after their magnificent free dance. “Wooooooo!” Tessa just smiled softly next to him at her husband’s enthusiasm.

“Scott,” she said laughing, “I believe the viewers would appreciate some professional distance from us.”

“What’s that? I don't know that. They did great!” Scott continued.

“Sshh, the scores are coming in.”

Then Tessa was on her feet for the skaters as well.

“It looks like we have brand new Canadian Ice dance champions!” Tracy said from nearby.

“Indeed it does,” said Tessa, smiling and clapping fervently.

The second place winners, relatively new from the junior ranks, only in their second year as seniors, were D’Alessandro and Waddell and she had to admit that her heart grew about three sizes as they beamed too at their silver.

Worlds that year went to the Americans, with Marjorie and Zac a very close second after some unfortunate mistakes from all of the top teams. Tessa and Scott still gave both teams standing ovations. Little did anyone know that the Canadian American ‘rivalry’ that was Virtue & Moir v. Davis & White, was about to experience a rebirth in this next generation that would last almost the whole quad. And, that the kids who had won silver at nationals that year would go on to break that trend and win everything there was to win.

 

The symptoms were all too familiar to Tessa the second time around. He drove her to the doctor’s office after week two of seemingly never ending vomiting. Confirmed. She was expecting their second child.

The two drove home in silence. There was a sense of foreboding attached to every action, as if the creak of the gear stick or the beep and flash of a warning light were the tick of their biological clocks.

“You don’t want to do you?” Scott’s voice was measured as they pulled into their driveway.

“Can we talk about this inside.”

They entered their home almost tentatively, Tessa sat down on the couch and patted the pillow beside her with a grimace. Scott joined her, the knowledge silently shared between them making the tension in the room rise.

“I can't do it again, not now.” Tessa said flatly. Scott’s face fell into a slow nod as she said it.

“I love you, I understand.”

“I'm so sorry, coming off of the Olympics, and we already have—” she started to shake.

“You don't have to justify this to me Tess, I get it.”

“No, Scott, I want to,” she continued. “I want another kid, I really do. But not now, please. Not this year, not right now.”

“Okay.”

She took his hands in hers. “Next year, we’ll sit down and plan for it.”

He nodded, squeezing her hands.

“I'm sorry, Scott.”

“Don't be sorry.” She still hung her head, avoiding eye contact. “Come here Tess.” He surrounded her with his embrace and they dreamt of the child that would never be. In another life, eight months later, they would wake each early morning to the cries of baby just as restless as his mother. And they would drag both their kids, less than handful of years apart, down to the rink on the Saturdays and to the park on Sundays.

It was the Sochi of children. It's not that they didn't love it, it's that it wasn't the right time. Wait another few years.

“I'll ring mom, get her to bring the kiddo back home.”

 

They went to the clinic the next week. Tessa sat down, took a deep breath. She explained their decision to the doctor and Scott held her hand. They returned a few days later and were parents of one once more.

 

She found Scott’s trembling frame in their bed not soon after.

Tessa knew that she wasn’t pregnant anymore, but she felt utterly sick to her stomach. Not for the first time, she wanted to beg the universe to take her decision back. Take me instead. Give me both our pain. I'm so so sorry I've done this. What have I done? Yet in their heart of hearts they both knew it was for the best. They had light in their lives. They had their daughter, they had skating, and they had one another. The rest would fall into place. He loved her too much to put her through something she wasn't ready for again, and she loved him too much to burden him with that decision.

“You're never a burden, T.”

“Pardon?” They were sitting up in bed, reading. He took his glasses off and repeated himself.

“You're never a burden. What you said. It’s gonna be okay. We have the monkey just next door, I don't need another kid right now.”

 _It was going to be okay._ She breathed a sight of relief, as if she were the wicked witch of the east (formerly) and up until this point there had been a whole house weighing down on her. Specifically, her own. She had been grasping to make her home and her household perfect. She started to cry with relief. Very quietly, if he weren't the man she had known for over twenty-five years he very well might not have picked up on it. But he was, so Scott noticed as always.

“Sshh, shh.” He stroked his thumb softly through her hair and turned out the light once more. He rocked her in his arms the whole evening, which only made her cry even harder.

“It was _our_ decision, not yours. Ours…”

They had done what was best for their family. Tessa recovered. She moved on with work and skating and family. She busied herself as usual, days packed from sunrise to sunset.

Scott was an enigma. He found himself daydreaming about when their daughter was young. When she smelled like soap all the time and her eyes were still the same colour as a cold winter’s day. When she was born and he knew in a split second, like the strike of a match, that nothing could ever be more important than their family. Yet that same part of him that would die for his family a million times over couldn’t help but feel a twisted sense of relief that they didn’t have another kid on the way. They both loved their little girl, but parenting was much harder than they had ever expected. Even harder when you had no family in town, and _even_ harder when you still worried day to day that you’d already screwed up the first one. Hadn’t loved her enough when she was little, hadn’t read to her enough, hadn’t spent enough time with her. The list went on.

It scared Tessa more than anything that she could love someone so deeply, more than Scott. He had always been the one who outwardly loved and showed his feelings, but it was her who felt so much that the overwhelming urge to share her love and her family and her happiness had to be battled back everyday. 

 

They were a strange little family, really. Scott would get up first each day, shower, and then gently wake Tessa and Clara. The girls would then ‘help’ each other pick their clothes for the day and Scott would get started on breakfast. Or, on Sundays, Clara would climb out of her own bed and waddle slowly to their open door, parents still asleep. It would be silent for a moment; Tessa lay spread eagle across the mattress, consumed by sleep; Scott hung half off the bed, blankets shed during the night.

“Mommy! Daddy!”

Tiny feet pitted pattered across the carpet and Clara sat down next to the bed. She grabbed her father’s thumb with her hand and pulled, hard.

“Daddy,” their daughter whispered. “Wakey, wakey.” She pulled his hand again and turned her attention to her mother. Climbing up Scott’s arm and over his shoulders and chest, the little girl looked decidedly determined as she crawled through the pile of sheets. Clara pulled herself up beside Tessa’s head and leaned in.

“Mommy.” She tapped her mother’s shoulder. “Wakeeee up,” she whispered into her mother’s ear.

“Shh, it’s too early,” Tessa’s words blended into one another in her sleepy haze. “Go to bed.”

“Wakey, wakey, Mommy,” her daughter said with a laugh.

“Noooooo,” Tessa exclaimed, shrinking into the blankets. Clara laughed even harder.

 

Tumblr and Twitter exploded that October when it looked that they were coming out of retirement, _again_. The fans shouted hallelujah only to find out that in fact it was their daughter's first big skating competition in which she was certifiably the cutest child on the planet — or at least according to the trending Instagram and twitter hashtag. Fifteenth in juvenile at the Quebec Sub-sectional Championships, not bad for a four year old.

Tessa and Scott were extremely cautious of letting their baby girl get absorbed in skating. They played in the park, they sung to her (well, Scott sung to her and then they conned Tessa into joining in later with threats of tickles), they taught her numbers and the alphabet, and they encouraged her to try other activities… but nothing had quite stuck like skating —yet. Now would be the time to make a pun about skating sticking like her tongue had to the ice a couple weeks beforehand when she'd gotten a little too curious when they’d visited Patrick’s rink.

“She’s four, what did you expect? Scott laughed as Patrick lightheartedly grumbled about his ice and children’s slobber.

“Okay,” Tessa intervened, skidding to a stop beside them, daughter in hand. “I think we fixed it.” Scott gave his girls a wink.

“See, just needed a bit of hot water.” He knelt down a placed a gentlemanly kiss on the back of his daughter’s hand which was still wet from wiping her tears. “All better now. Now all uncle Chiddy needs to do is get better at supervision”

Patrick gave them a ‘really guys?’ look, and then knelt down too to hold his arms out for a hug from baby Virtue-Moir. Tessa and Scott shared a look as Patrick ended up practically sitting on the ice in order to be close enough to their daughter’s height for a cuddle. The two parents laughed as Clara clung to her uncle Patrick.

“You’re good with her,” Scott smiled. “You’re gonna be a great dad, man.”

Chiddy’s face creased a little as he grinned. “Thanks.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> More to come! And a much longer next chapter, stay tuned. (Also an edit for the commenters: I spoke to a doctor writing this chapter about ways to approach it)

**Author's Note:**

> find me on tumblr same name.


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